Two-footed beasts that browse through life,
by Death to serve as soil design’d,
Bow prone to Earth whereof they be,
and there the proper pleasures find:
But you of finer, nobler, stuff,
ye, whom to Higher leads the High,
What binds your hearts in common bond
with creatures of the stall and sty?
“In certain hope of Life-to-come
I journey through this shifting scene”
The Zâhid snarls and saunters down
his Vale of Tears with confi’dent mien.