By Sarojini Naidu:

The Imam Bara

I

Out of the somber shadow,

Over the sunlit grass,

Slow in a sad procession

The shadowy pageants pass

Mournful, majestic, and solemn,

Stricken and pale and dumb,

Crowned in their peerless anguish

The sacred martyrs come.

Hark, from the brooding silence

Breaks the wild cry of pain

Wrung from the heart of the ages

Ali! Hassan! Hussain!

II

Come from this tomb of shadows,

Come from this tragic shrine

That throbs with the deathless sorrow

Of a long-dead martyr line.

Love! Let the living sunlight

Kindle your splendid eyes

Ablaze with the steadfast triumph

Of the spirit that never dies.