James Clarence Mangan

Medreamt I was in Paradise, and there, a-drinking wine,
I saw our Father Adam, with his flowing golden hair.
"O Father!" was my greeting, "my heart is faint with care:
Tell me, tell me, are the Mooslemin of Aalya sons of thine?"
But the noble senior frowned, and his wavy golden hair
Grew black as clouds at evening, when thunder
thrills the air.
"Nay, the Mooslemin of Aalya I disown for sons of mine!"
Then methought I wept, and beat my breast, and
begged of him a sign.
"O swear it, Father Adam!" So, dilating out, he
"If the Mooslemin of Aalyastan be kith or kin of
Let dust for ever darken the glory of my hair!"