Tell me friends what shall you say 

On the awful Judgment Day 

When Mohammad asks you where 

Are those trusted to you care? 

Dearer than a thousand lives?

Bound by many a fastening chain 

Some in dungeons dark remain, 

On Kerbala’s barren strand 

Others lie, a reaking band. 

Torn with wounds and stain’d with mud

Weltering in their own heart’s blood. 

When before the Judgment seat 

You the Holy Prophet meet, 

He shall ask. If thus you show 

The gratitude you justly owe,

For all the benefits bestow’d 

By whom whose bounty freely flow’d.