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This year, Burton, emulous of fame as an original poet, published The Kasidah of Haji Abdu El-Yezdi, A Lay of the Higher Law, which treats of the great questions of Life, Death and Immortality, and has certain resemblances to that brilliant poem which is the actual father of it, Edward FitzGerald's rendering of The Rubaiyat of Oman Khayyam.
On one of the coffee-tables he found lying a small thin book bound in white vellum. He took it up and read the name in gold letters: "The Kasidah of Haji Abdu El-Yezdi." It was the book he had found Beattie reading on the night when Robin was born, on the night when Bruce Evelin and Guy had discussed Mrs. Clarke's divorce case and Mrs. Clarke. He shuddered in the warmth of the pavilion.
What else had he done since he had wandered in the wilderness? "There is no Good, there is no Bad, these be The whims of mortal will: What works me weal that call I 'good, what harms And hurts I hold as 'ill." These words drove out the pale Fantasy he had fallen down and worshiped. It had harmed and hurt him. Haji Abdu El-Yezdi bade him henceforth hold it as "ill."
The filmy white had been lifted in the process of sewing, and a little exquisitely bound white book was disclosed beneath it. "May I look?" "Yes, do." Dion took the book up, and read the title, "The Kasidah of Haji Abdu El-Yezdi." "I never heard of this. Where did you get it?" "Guy Daventry left it here by mistake yesterday. I must give it to him to-night."
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