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 &^L£5qBL£\NEBN 
 
 THE> BDs/& <5K!C PRE; fS 
 
 CHICAQO 
 
Of this book there have been printed 200 
 copies on Van Gelder hand-made paper > 
 and 2 5 copies on Japan Vellum; this copy 
 being number sp» 
 
 1 
 
 
 TNE LIBRARY OF 
 
 tess, 
 
 Tag C^i IBS Rechveo 
 
 NOV, 25 1901 
 
 COPYKIQMT iNTHr 
 
 / ^3 f) 
 
 goK . 
 
 >•• • 
 
 : Cvfyrigb'tJpdi by i • . •' 
 Langworthy &? Stevens 
 
0un<j 
 
 Since sorrow is his lot, fytfidt 
 
 How happy man must be „ 
 
 When Death refuses not IJ*^' 
 
 His swift benignity. 
 
 But, oh, how happy, Sweet, 
 
 The dust that hurries by, 
 
 Or, trod beneath thy feet, 
 
 Has yet no breath to sigh. 
 
 Eternity is dumb, 
 A sphinx unto our prayers, 
 Alike to all who come 
 She only sits and stares; 
 And yet behind those eyes 
 Is thought of thee and me; 
 Perchance in silence lies 
 Enough of destiny. 
 
 Sans wine I would not live 
 In this unfeeling state; 
 In every cup I give 
 A hostage unto Fate. 
 When I no more can drink, 
 Oh, nothing shall I fear 
 Although upon the brink 
 Of this dissenting sphere. 
 
 Thou art my Yusuf flower, 
 Thy mouth is set with pearls; 
 Thou hast me in thy power, 
 Thou rose of dancing girls. 
 And why? Because, my bloom, 
 I love all roses well — 
 The thorn that counsels gloom, 
 The petals that dispel. 
 
£)mar 
 
 In this wide world of care 
 I sought a resting place, 
 / But only rested where 
 
 I looked into thy face. 
 Thy beauty was to me 
 Like an oasis lone, 
 And in the heart of thee 
 The fount that fed my own. 
 
 Think you the Deity 
 Counts all the cups I drain? 
 Of small account must be 
 Such idle work and vain. 
 Forever He has known 
 That I would drink my wine; 
 Oh, let it not be shown 
 I question His design. 
 
 Come hither, Sweet, and bring 
 
 A flagon of the best, 
 
 That I may drown the sting 
 
 That rankles in my breast. 
 
 Fill up the glass again 
 
 Before the potter old, 
 
 To please the needs of men, 
 
 Makes flagons of my mold. 
 
 Drench me when I am dead 
 With my most pleasant wine; 
 Let no long prayers be said — 
 Sing lyrics of the vine. 
 And when you seek my shade, 
 (If you shall seek me, Dear), 
 Remember how they fade 
 Who have no lovers here. 
 
mn$ 
 
 Who cares to prophesy dDttt&f 
 
 Of what shall hap to-morrow? _~ 
 
 If we shall live or die, vj*£' 
 
 Or dwell with joy or sorrow? 
 Delightful Star! drink deep 
 Of wine the while 'tis flowing; 
 How long the dead do sleep 
 There is no way of knowing. 
 
 Let whoso loves be proud 
 To call some heart his own; 
 When cares upon him crowd 
 He shall not be alone. 
 Let Fortune fly the door 
 To nevermore return; 
 They only, Sweet, are poor 
 Whose altars fail to burn. 
 
 The true philosopher 
 Sets not his heart on gold, 
 Since wealth is but a burr 
 Within his garment's fold; 
 A snake that deeply stings 
 The breast that warms to life; 
 A dragon of the springs 
 And higher paths of strife. 
 
 Behold, beloved one, 
 The season of the rose! 
 How hath the golden sun 
 Exiled the traitor snows. 
 How happy, too, am I 
 In summer such as thine; 
 Thou art my laughing sky, 
 My music and my wine. 
 
mn$ 
 
 (jTSfttftY Come, speak and tell me true. 
 <£"Ul what haye j done tQ thee 
 
 (jye$ That thou, O Wheel, shouldst do 
 
 Such grindings unto me? 
 From town to town I rove; 
 My bread — an idle dream, 
 My roof — the kindly grove, 
 My wine — the laughing stream. 
 
 14 I passed a potter gray 
 And saw what he saw not, 
 That 'twas my father's clay 
 He fashioned to a pot. 
 And when he glanced aside 
 I kissed the gentle earth, 
 As he had kissed his bride. 
 Say, what are kisses worth? 
 
 1 5 Man — like unto a glass, 
 His soul the wine that fills; 
 A hollow reed where pass 
 What strains of life He wills; 
 Or yet a lantern gay, 
 Wherein a light is trimmed, 
 That soon shall burn away 
 And leave its husk bedimmed. 
 
 1 6 Since life so niggard is 
 In dealing with mankind, 
 But momentary bliss 
 In its short span we find. 
 Our hopes, our strivings claim 
 The substance of the heart; 
 Too late, too late we came, 
 Too soon, too soon depart. 
 
wheel of circumstance, (J^tttAt* 
 And thou, most stubborn Fate, 7^ 
 What matters if it chance (JvC/ 
 The heavens be seven or eight? ftUYkfr 
 Be happy while you may, -J 
 The present is your staff. 
 
 To-morrow? Yesterday? 
 
 1 give such dreams the laugh. 
 
 O Poet! why this grief 
 For things undone or done? 
 Why bind into thy sheaf 
 Remorseful tares for one? 
 Forgiveness, mercy — they 
 For those who sin were made; 
 Repent and go thy way, 
 And be no more afraid. 
 
 No one hath passed behind 
 The veil that hideth God, 
 And none may ever find 
 The path no man has trod; 
 The bosom of the earth 
 Is our last resting spot; 
 What dreams therein have birth 
 Our sleep remembers not. 
 
 Fill up, fill up the bowl, 
 And yet another measure, 
 And I'll divorce my soul 
 From everything but pleasure; 
 The daughter of the vine 
 I'll set to woo a season; 
 Fill up the bowl with wine 
 And lock the door to Reason. 
 
eun<j 
 
 foyftffl Beloved, full of grace, 
 ' Of witcheries and wiles, 
 
 (JvC' Come, let me see thy face, 
 
 Thy dimples and thy smiles. 
 I can no more refrain 
 From gazing at thee, Dear, 
 Than turn this cup and gain 
 The wine I scatter here. 
 
 22 Of Wisdom and of Wit 
 Seek thou the company, 
 And rather than to sit 
 With fools, thy country flee. 
 The poison of the wise, 
 If offered to thee, drink; 
 The antidote despise 
 If fools tip off the wink. 
 
 23 My well beloved one 
 To me again is kind. 
 May all her days the sun, 
 As mine the shadows, find. 
 She gave me one bright smile, 
 A fleeting glance she gave, 
 Thinking, no doubt, the while 
 That straws the drowning save. 
 
 24 The Koran, which men name 
 The book of Holy Writ, 
 Grows musty in the fame 
 Of truths that laugh at it; 
 The while the verses of 
 The motto on my cup 
 Are luminous with love, 
 And sweet to those who sup. 
 
eun^ 
 
 25 Count not yourselves too good (f)tft/ll* 
 In putting by the wine, n ^ 
 And then in haughty mood \J*£' 
 With greater evils dine. 
 True temperance is built 
 Upon a broader plan, 
 They only merit guilt 
 Who put aside the man. 
 
 26 Oh, would that I might drink 
 Of living truth so deep, 
 The tomb to which I sink 
 Grows fragrant with my sleep. 
 I may not know the plan 
 For which I was designed, 
 But let me waft o'er man 
 An Araby of mind. 
 
 27 Arise ! Whatever power 
 Gave man ascendency, 
 This is the place and hour 
 That he should freeman be. 
 Should man condemn the wight 
 Who does as he designed? 
 Can He condemn the light 
 He kindled in the mind? 
 
 28 Than some true heart — what more 
 On earth doth mortal need? 
 Say, what the stormless shore 
 Of any hope or creed, 
 If one call not his own 
 A friend who loves him well? 
 The heart that beats alone 
 Encircles all of hell. 
 

 Destruction is thy scheme 
 Thou Juggernaut of Fate; 
 Alike the hope and dream, 
 The lowly and the great, 
 Thou crushest in thy path 
 As they were nothing worth, 
 Until, to please thy wrath, 
 One mighty tomb is earth. 
 
 30 When this green earth is gay 
 And bounding is the blood; 
 When suns with cheerful ray 
 This fair green earth do flood, 
 Let me with pleasant friends 
 This happy green earth roam, 
 Ere all of pleasure ends 
 
 In this green earth, our home. 
 
 3 1 Each morn at break of day 
 The busy world I meet, 
 While fast do run away 
 
 My dreams with lightsome feet; 
 Yet in the presence, Lord, 
 Of those forgetting Thee, 
 Let Thy uplifted Word 
 Still rear a home for me. 
 
 32 In every cup of pleasure 
 We find the rue of grief; 
 In every golden measure 
 Is found one bitter leaf; 
 And we can never fashion 
 A paradise so fair, 
 
 But some old friend of passion 
 Shall climb and haunt us there. 
 
0Utt<£ 
 
 33 Choose thou the middle ground (fVftAt 
 Whereon belief shall stand; „ 
 Deem not the Known as sound, (J>£/ 
 The Unknown merely sand; 
 So shall thy strength be such, 
 Whatever blast may fall, 
 Loss cannot harm thee much 
 Nor rob thee of thy all. 
 
 34 From those who never fail 
 To babble, turn aside; 
 E'en from the nightingale 
 Thy inmost secrets hide. 
 What hells, what heavens lie 
 In hearts that none may see; 
 What griefs, what joys go by 
 In masks, unceasingly. 
 
 35 Since Death doth come so soon 
 To shatter us like glass, 
 While yet it is the noon 
 Of youth, let baubles pass. 
 The world to us should be 
 A happy dwelling place, 
 And the proud soul stand free 
 In thought's great market-place. 
 
 36 Oh, long among the roses 
 I lingered deep in thought; 
 In all the garden closes 
 I found not that I sought — 
 The one and perfect Beauty 
 My soul desired to see; 
 Perchance, 'twas only Duty 
 That stirred the heart of me. 
 

 (rttHAV ^ s bright quicksilver slips, 
 So runs this life away, 
 C/ And all our many ships 
 
 Return no more for aye. 
 O Earth, thou cheating dream! 
 O Life, that trouble brings! 
 By what resplendent stream 
 May sorrow fold her wings? 
 
 3 8 The slaves of Love are we, 
 In whom we fondly trust, 
 Oh, happy sprites if he 
 Vouchsafe to us a crust. 
 Let others worship Fame, 
 Or any god they choose, 
 But I will kindle flame 
 To Love — and to the Muse. 
 
 39 Praise not the skies nor blame 
 For any weal or woe, 
 Since they unto the same 
 Eternal ocean flow 
 As that to which you tend; 
 The stars are merely dreams 
 That twinkle to their end 
 Adown what mystic streams ! 
 
 40 Though with the morning's wings 
 Aspiring thought may fly, 
 The still elusive springs 
 Of life beyond us lie. 
 Subdued, chagrined, alone, 
 Again to earth we fall, 
 And in the little Known 
 Salute the sphinx of All. 
 
 
mn§ 
 
 Oh, lost in love to-day, d^ttldf 
 
 And sundered from the chain ^ 
 
 Of our gross selves, we may \J££' 
 
 That highest House attain 
 Wherein the soul, arrayed 
 In its celestial power, 
 May question, unafraid, 
 The Action and the Hour. 
 
 What Spirit in this wine 
 Gives music to my tongue? 
 What eloquence divine, 
 As I again were young? 
 Lo! miracles unmask 
 And visions of the Truth; 
 Within this cup doth bask, 
 I swear, Immortal Youth. 
 
 Each day is but a place 
 Where we may sleep and dine, 
 A bright and happy space 
 Wherein to sip our wine. 
 A few halts more and lo! 
 The desert everywhere; 
 And none returns to show 
 He sleeps not soundly there. 
 
 Behold the rose of dawn, 
 O Fountain of my bliss! 
 The purple night is gone 
 To other lands than this. 
 Awake thy lute with mirth 
 While life within us burns, 
 For once 'tis quenched to earth 
 Our day no more returns. 
 
e\m$ 
 
 d^Vit/it* ^ ea > m tn * s crum bling tower 
 ^J ma * (Which is myself) do I, 
 
 fjvC' Serene, await the hour 
 
 Wherein at last I die. 
 Thus am I free from fear, 
 From sorrow, hope, desire; 
 So rise above the sphere 
 Of earth, air, water, fire. 
 
 46 Unfaith from faith, untruth 
 From truth, belief from doubt — 
 A breath divides, forsooth, 
 The all we war about. 
 Why wrangle for an hour 
 Or waste a single breath, 
 Since breath's the only power 
 That keeps sweet life from death? 
 
 47 O most entrancing night! 
 Whereof the Moon is queen, 
 What kingdom of delight 
 Like this was ever seen? 
 How nightingales do sing 
 And fragrant zephyrs stir; 
 Come forth, my soul, and bring 
 Sweet, holy thoughts or her! 
 
 48 Now every blossom sips 
 The dew that twilight brings; 
 Why not unto my lips 
 The dew of sweeter springs? 
 Beloved, go not yet; 
 The hour is not at hand 
 When sleep bids us forget 
 The dreams of this fair land. 
 
Thou who knowest all (ftttt/it* 
 
 The heart's inmost desires, 
 
 Rekindle ere I fall (R^ 
 
 My temple's altar fires; tfitto/t 
 
 Give me the strength to throw -5 
 
 The dross of life from me, 
 
 And let me plainly know 
 
 The paths that lead to Thee. 
 
 Upon the crumbled wall 
 Of once a city great, 
 
 1 heard a raven call 
 Unto a skull of state: 
 
 O king! where art thou now, 
 And where thy glory flown? 
 What crown upon thy brow? 
 What trumpets for thee blown? 
 
 Oh, like unto the wind 
 That o'er the desert blows, 
 The days leave me behind 
 In Memnon-like repose. 
 No more I vex my soul 
 With unsubstantial things, 
 The moment gone, the dole 
 That any other brings. 
 
 The pearl of greatest price 
 Is mined where none may know; 
 And with a strange device 
 The perfect gem doth glow. 
 Thy riddle, Love, is such 
 The sphinx is left behind, 
 Since those who haunt thee much 
 Are blindest of the blind. 
 
0Utt<J 
 
 (rttttAtf This wisdom I consign 
 fV% To you as nothing lacking: 
 
 (JvC/ No man doth put new wine 
 
 In pigskins old and cracking. 
 Not being young, I drink 
 A wine as old as I am. 
 So laugh at youth, to think 
 How it unseated Priam. 
 
 54 Inform me, O my Soul, 
 Why this poor house of clay 
 Was reared to be thy goal 
 For one such fleeting day? 
 What rest may here be found? 
 What happiness is here? 
 Depart, and let this ground 
 Return unto its sphere. 
 
 55 This is our day of pleasure, 
 Come, push the cup aside, 
 And from a larger measure 
 Pour down the ruby tide. 
 If working days we buy us 
 But cups of common girth, 
 Let double draughts supply us 
 On days of double mirth. 
 
 56 Few friends give me — or one; 
 Some David of the heart 
 To whom all pleasures run, 
 All sorrows are a part — 
 A sweet and genial soul 
 In whom repose to find, 
 An ever lofty goal 
 And solace to the mind. 
 
57 Since life such sorrow yields (fttttAt* 
 And joy is on the wing, wJFlW 
 Away to pleasant fields QhW' 
 For strength, while yet 'tis spring; gun* 
 Say to the grasses green: OUIUJ 
 
 Brothers! give me rest 
 Ere your sweet spikes be seen 
 Close set above my breast. 
 
 58 Proteus dwells within 
 The essence of the Grape, 
 And now resembles Sin 
 And now a peri's shape. 
 Think not that he is dead 
 Because he slumbers here; 
 He simply schemes instead 
 How he shall reappear. 
 
 59 I have no time for hate; 
 If men will be unjust, 
 
 1 should dishonor Fate 
 To strike them to the dust. 
 Enough it is for me 
 
 To let the gods condemn; 
 My virtues — they must be 
 My triumphs over them. 
 
 So Oh, come, let us disdain 
 The round of dismal cares, 
 And our sad hearts sustain 
 Through light and happy airs. 
 Where Merriment doth pour 
 His flagons to the brim — 
 There let our spirits soar 
 And drain the cup with him. 
 d 
 

 ArSy* AY Puppets are we, it seems, 
 
 Amusing some great Power 
 C/ Who in the play of Dreams 
 
 Requires us for an hour. 
 We are what things we are; 
 We act the part He gave, 
 And from this whirling star 
 The exit is the grave. 
 
 62 Mohammedan and Jew, 
 And Christian and the rest, 
 The same mirage pursue 
 In hoping to be blest; 
 Yet in the mind of him 
 Whose thought is ever free, 
 Is doubt that bodies dim 
 Attain much brilliancy. 
 
 63 I cannot tell thee, Dear, 
 The meaning of this Dream, 
 I only know that here 
 We drift upon a stream 
 That flows we know not where, 
 We have no clue from whence? 
 I know that thou art fair 
 And Love shall lead us hence. 
 
 64 That which we cannot know 
 Why waste the time to find? 
 So long as roses blow, 
 Why be to them so blind? 
 Enjoy the earth while here 
 And let the Future rest, 
 Nor seek another sphere 
 When this way be the best. 
 
Behold the God of Wine dDwt&t 
 
 With flagon and with cup! „ 
 
 Our souls are at his shrine, \J*£' 
 
 The incense wreathing up. tfilttrt" 
 
 What fragrance and what glow! -J 
 
 What rubies given us! 
 Such wealth makes care and woe 
 And want ridiculous. 
 
 Far as the morning flees 
 Has been my pathway, too, 
 And yet in realms and seas 
 I found me nothing new. 
 Man is the same, world o'er, 
 And nature, too, the same 
 As here upon this shore — 
 A shadow and a name. 
 
 Once in a dream a sage 
 Did come to me and say: 
 O Friend! why blot the page 
 By sleeping while 'tis day? 
 The dead alone may keep 
 Their couch without regret; 
 The Rose of Joy, in sleep, 
 Has never blossomed yet. 
 
 Seek ever what is fair, 
 Drink ever what is sweet, 
 And tread the dust of care 
 Beneath your merry feet. 
 Why sue for pardon here 
 For quaffing joy so brief? 
 The gods in their own sphere 
 Love Laughter more than Grief. 
 
0Utt0 
 
 &}\\IClY ^ ^ e to us were V^ n 
 „ And death an open book, 
 
 (JvC/ We might not strive to gain 
 
 The heights for which we look, 
 
 But, leaving all to God, 
 
 By Him be counted nought, 
 
 Or what the barren sod 
 
 Of weedy rubbish wrought. 
 
 70 Though heaven and earth should fall, 
 And stars show not their faces, 
 My soul would still invade 
 Some still undreamed of spaces. 
 Somewhere a light would shine 
 To which I should be fleeing, 
 To find that there my dream 
 Oh, long had lost its being. 
 
 71 Farewell to Ramazan! 
 The hour of mirth is come; 
 Roll up old Alkoran 
 And be no longer dumb. 
 Let maids bring forth the wine 
 And sing and dance and play; 
 The very grass shall shine 
 With ruby dew to-day! 
 
 72 Although I have not strung 
 The pearls of His decrees, 
 Still sails my ship among 
 The islands of His seas. 
 What wrath can we assail? 
 Of mercy why despair? 
 I have not worshipped Baal 
 Nor harried Thee with prayer. 
 
0un<j 
 
 Oh, once this jar of rose dtVitAt* 
 
 Was beautiful with life, m 
 
 A lovely maid — who knows? (tyC/ 
 
 Perchance a bride and wife. 
 That handle was her arm 
 About some neck that clung 
 With true affection warm, 
 When this old world was young. 
 
 Beat not at every gate 
 For refuge from thy grief, 
 But patient be and wait, 
 Since life at best is brief. 
 What Destiny decrees 
 Shall be thy lot and mine — 
 No more, no less, we seize 
 Of shadow or of shine. 
 
 Twilights and dawns and noons 
 Ere we were born did bloom, 
 And many, many moons 
 Invest the fragrant gloom. 
 Be careful, therefore, where 
 Your idle footsteps tread; 
 The very dust is fair 
 With beauty that is dead. 
 
 This day may be the last 
 That Life shall dwell with thee, 
 Since he doth journey fast 
 In his far home to be. 
 Waste not the time in sleep 
 The while he is thy guest; 
 Thy house in order keep 
 And soothe him with the best. 
 
e\m$ 
 
 ft\\H/%Y ^he f uture ? Tis not mine; 
 
 ^ The past? A dream's device. 
 
 ^JvC/ To-morrow's sun may shine 
 
 Upon thy brow of ice. 
 The present moment, then, 
 Is leased unto our needs, 
 Wherein we fare with men 
 And do our little deeds. 
 
 78 Kaabas and temples rise, 
 And countless gods are sought, 
 And under many skies 
 Are many wonders wrought; 
 And yet all lovely things, 
 Wherever shines the sun, 
 Are the uplifting wings 
 Whereby we soar to One. 
 
 79 Let not thy cheek grow wan 
 With thoughts of future woe; 
 Serenely journey on, 
 Nor fear the common foe. 
 Thy cup of earthly bliss, 
 As Heaven intended, drain; 
 The ghosts of joys we miss 
 Are hollow-eyed as Cain. 
 
 80 The hearth is cleanly swept, 
 Our souls, my Dear, at peace; 
 And every clause is kept 
 Of Love's immortal lease; 
 Forgotten every woe 
 The world was wont to bring; 
 Forgiven every foe 
 And healed his every sting. 
 
8 1 Of what avail is prayer (fttttAt* 
 If that the heart be proud? ft* 
 Vain words are but as air vl^£' 
 Or pockets in a shroud. KUftfr 
 Sincerity that springs -J 
 From souls devoid of guile, 
 
 Is mightier than kings 
 
 To win fair Heaven's smile. 
 
 82 Put not on the raiment 
 The hypocrite doth wear, 
 Nor, once outside the tent, 
 Make loud and vacant prayer. 
 Such faults the gods despise, 
 And Heaven from such is free; 
 Vast hell itself denies 
 
 It holds hypocrisy. 
 
 $3 Circles of nothingness 
 Are set to our account, 
 The fraction growing less 
 The higher we do mount. 
 Man's knowledge is but nought, 
 His wisdom vain as dreams, 
 The subsidies of thought 
 But evanescent gleams. 
 
 $4 Unsatisfied desire 
 
 And hopes no time may fill, 
 Burn in me like to fire 
 And waste away my will. 
 What ashes men become 
 To please the sphinx in Thee, 
 Beneath what Heavens dumb, 
 Demanding love from me! 
 
0Utt<$ 
 
 (rttttAtf Since earth can only give 
 KJU A few bright days to thee, 
 
 QKe? O Poet, freely live 
 
 And sip the sweets that be. 
 The end is nothingness, 
 And short this mundane way; 
 Act promptly and possess, 
 And while you live be gay. 
 
 86 Oh, long ago the Book 
 Of Heaven was writ and sealed, 
 And none therein may look 
 And nothing be revealed; 
 With dreams and emptiness 
 We fill the jar of day, 
 The while we strangely guess 
 What boots the part we play. 
 
 87 In some most humble cot 
 I rather dwell with thee 
 Than where I saw thee not 
 An envied king to be. 
 This, then, shall be my creed, 
 Come whatsoever may: 
 Love only shall me lead 
 And thou light up the way. 
 
 88 The riddle of the Sphinx 
 Is knowledge hid in thee, 
 And yet what mortal drinks 
 The draught he cannot see? 
 If thought might dig so deep 
 As lie its crystal springs, 
 The riddle would not keep — 
 Nor Hope fold up her wings. 
 
Resign thyself to Fate, &}tt%/lt 
 
 No other ruse avails; II 
 
 He who learns not to wait, (JvC/ 
 
 In every project fails. KUYkfr 
 
 And if in waiting long 3 
 
 Death find thee ere Success, 
 Remember, to be strong 
 Is most of happiness. 
 
 Who loves you, he is kin; 
 If your own kith betray, 
 Let them be strangers in 
 This drama of a day. 
 If poison cures you, drink; 
 If antidotes work ill, 
 Reject them, and so think 
 That thinking shall not kill. 
 
 Lo! spring is come, and now 
 From bondage of the cold 
 Is led each happy bough — 
 As Moses led of old. 
 What lands of promise loom 
 In all these blossoms white, 
 Where, later, there shall bloom 
 What fruitage of the light! 
 
 Long have I been of wine 
 A singing devotee, 
 Yet made it thrall supine 
 To sweet Philosophy. 
 And therefore is the Grape 
 The subject of my will; 
 I snare me and escape, 
 And am the master still. 
 
e\m$ 
 
 fi}Yft.At ^> grieve no more, nor strive, 
 To lose or gain thee gold; 
 
 (JvC/ The bee unto his hive 
 
 Lugs more than he can hold. 
 Why gather so much wealth 
 That others may be drones, 
 To laugh at thee in stealth 
 And fatten on thy groans? 
 
 94 Since it is ever plain 
 From this clay house we flee, 
 The joys we may not gain 
 Why seek so eagerly P 
 The Soul is Lord Divine? 
 And it alone will grieve 
 If dross I claim as mine 
 And life's good treasure leave. 
 
 95 Whose eyes but melt in rains 
 When you are absent, Dear? 
 Whose soul sits not in chains 
 Until you reappear? 
 Whose heart that does not bleed 
 As though it exiled were? 
 And yet you pay no heed 
 To any worshipper. 
 
 96 If they who never sin 
 But cast at us the stone, 
 We shall not gather in 
 Enough of scars to own. 
 Let hypocrites beware 
 Lest Virtue them indite; 
 Sometimes the noonday fair, 
 Inside, are blackest night. 
 
0Utt$ 
 
 All joy is incomplete (^ttt/lt* 
 
 That is alone employed, 
 
 But, oh, how more than sweet \J*t' 
 
 When sharefully enjoyed. 
 
 The whole of life is not 
 
 In simply drawing breath, 
 
 But being well forgot 
 
 When we lie cold in death. 
 
 The bridge from birth to death 
 Is but a hair's breadth wide, 
 And rocks with every breath 
 Above a darksome tide. 
 The soul is but a Dream 
 That ever urges "On"; 
 Uprises that black stream, 
 And lo ! the world is gone. 
 
 Pale Death in this world's gear 
 Makes all men poor and mean, 
 Therefore in thy career 
 Build up the soul's demesne; 
 From passion free and dross 
 Enrich thy heart and mind, 
 So, dying, leave not loss 
 But gain of thee behind. 
 
 I cannot think that He 
 Who made this cup will break, 
 Unless, perchance, there be 
 A better for my sake. 
 These lovely faces fade ? 
 Such is the Great Design; 
 In bowing to the Shade 
 I worship the Divine. 
 
e\m$ 
 
 fttttdtf Through drunkenness of earth 
 f y^ This dread of death doth come; 
 
 \JvC' A tree of no true worth 
 
 Alone bears fruit so dumb. 
 But that immortal Tree 
 Which doth the soul sustain 
 Still bursts to bloom for thee, 
 And its sweet fruit doth rain. 
 
 1 02 The tulip her bright cup — 
 Refound in this new year — 
 To the glad sun holds up 
 A great symbol of good cheer. 
 Therefore with Beauty dwell 
 And quaff the wine of spring, 
 Brooks laugh, birds sing, buds swell 
 And Joy is on the wing. 
 
 103 One drop of wine is more 
 Than many kingdoms dead, 
 The jar from which we pour 
 Than hearts encased in lead. 
 A thousand coins of gold 
 Quench not the fires of thirst; 
 Bring me a vintage old 
 And I will crown it first. 
 
 104 Grieve not when I am dead, 
 But, gathered 'round my tomb, 
 Rejoice with me instead, 
 And scatter fragment bloom. 
 Alive, I wake no tear; 
 In death be it the same; 
 I still would bring you cheer 
 When I am but a name. 
 
mn$ 
 
 105 No shield against the thrust (£)ttt&? 
 Of Fate's sharp spear is found; „ 
 Glory and gold, and lust \J£^ 
 Of fame fall to the ground. 
 Greatness? Only the good 
 Are great, since they, 
 Through honest hardihood, 
 Last longest in the fray. 
 
 106 I set my heart to find 
 The Land of Happiness, 
 And many realms declined 
 As lacking might to bless. 
 Care guarded every gate 
 And Want within was pale; 
 The more I fled from Fate 
 The more I seemed to fail. 
 
 107 Forgive me, O my Soul, 
 If at thy feet I lay 
 The trophies of the goal 
 Of this proud bit of clay. 
 That they are vain I fear, 
 And better unbestowed, 
 Yet thou didst journey here 
 And made me thy abode. 
 
 108 Who keeps his heart content, 
 Ah, he is the Lord of Peace, 
 To whom all joys are sent, 
 Whose kingdom shall not cease. 
 Tranquility of mind, 
 Delicious sleeps he knows, 
 Twin rubies man may find 
 Not where the Miser goes. 
 

 To drink wine, to be gay — 
 This is my scheme of life, 
 £/ Besides no heed to pay 
 
 To creeds that bring but strife. 
 I said unto the Bride: 
 "What is thy portion, Sweet?" 
 She said: "When at thy side 
 Thy happy look I meet." 
 
 no These millions of the light! 
 How soon to sleep in death, 
 Where no stars shine, in night 
 Where stirs no balmy breath, 
 In earth serene and dumb, 
 With silence old as time. 
 Bid Pleasure, therefore, come 
 And weave her laughing rhyme. 
 
 in Unrest and sorrow haunt 
 
 My heart both night and day 
 To think that pale and gaunt 
 A Ghost pursues my way. 
 I may not bar his path, 
 He journeys where I go; 
 In thrall my life he hath 
 And fills my cup with woe. 
 
 112 When He this seed did sow 
 
 He knew what fruit 'twould bear; 
 He chose the soil to grow 
 And set His limits there. 
 Ehe harvest He shall reap 
 Is that which He desires; 
 Good grain His bins may heap 
 Or rubbish feed His fires. 
 
sung 
 
 113 What time I leaned to prayer (ftfttA? 
 And pangs of fasting knew, ^ 
 Methought 'twas mine to share (JvC/ 
 Of heaven: I dreamed of you. 
 Oh, penetential tears, 
 Oh, high resolves for good, 
 How heaven disappears 
 In things misunderstood! 
 
 114 Fair faces inspire me 
 Like the Maid of the Vine; 
 Let Beauty but fire me 
 And the song is divine. 
 What beacons unlighted 
 But await the bright spark, 
 To lead the benighted 
 From the sorrow of dark! 
 
 1 1 5 As men who cannot know 
 The why that they are here, 
 The Potter's ware, arow, 
 I heard conversing clear: 
 Where is the Potter? Where 
 The buyer? Where is he 
 Who sells? And why this air 
 Of chance and mystery? 
 
 116 What worthiness is mine 
 The Master Potter knows; 
 He fashioned me, in fine, 
 And why doth not disclose. 
 Betimes, He shall me break; 
 Betimes, His hand remould — 
 So long as dawns shall wake 
 And earth her orbit hold. 
 
(fttttAt ^ a ^ Youth to tipsy Age: 
 ¥> "Old man dost thou not fear 
 
 (JvC/ To stain thy final page, 
 
 MLYktt ^ nc * *° ' fc ^ e en< ^ so near ?" 
 
 t>WII SJ Said Age: "This book of mine 
 
 In merriment was writ, 
 
 And not with tears, but wine, 
 
 I'll drench the end of it." 
 
 1 1 8 A thousand wines there be, 
 And many my muse sings: 
 I cannot judge for thee 
 Nor give thy soul its wings. 
 Choose for thyself, and soar 
 Or hobble on the ground; 
 The gods presume no more 
 Than point to the Profound. 
 
 119 Yea, passion is the voice 
 Of our brute natures still; 
 We fox-like are from choice — 
 A wolf that seeks his fill — 
 The tiger without heart 
 
 And prowling for his prey — 
 An ass that plays his part — 
 A dog that loves to bay. 
 
 120 Who sent thee, Sweet, to me, 
 Oh, radiant as the dawn? 
 What Thought awakened thee 
 That hither thou wast drawn? 
 Alas! how on the wind 
 
 Our roses bright depart! 
 What thorns are left behind 
 To pierce and pain the heart! 
 
121 The lamp of love which Heaven $}fH/ir 
 Hath set in every heart 
 
 Is as a star that's given (Jv£' 
 
 To play its brilliant part. tftltUt 
 
 What creed can dim its light -J 
 
 Or add unto its ray? 
 It is the soul of night 
 And in itself is day. 
 
 122 More dear than in the strife 
 Are arrows, bow and spear — 
 More dear to me than life, 
 An hundred times more dear, 
 Art thou, Beloved One, 
 
 All loveliness and light — 
 My soul, my saint, my sun, 
 My everything that's bright! 
 
 123 How fair the fringes green 
 Along this laughing stream, 
 A picture that is seen 
 More often in a dream. 
 
 Oh, do not crush this bloom, 
 In God's own gardens made, 
 Sent hither that the gloom 
 A little season fade. 
 
 124 Care and cark, cark and care, 
 Such — such is man's refrain. 
 Laughter? Dead. Tears? To spare. 
 The king? The king is Pain. 
 
 On shoal and reef and bar, 
 The only pilot blind, 
 Sans compass, chart and star, 
 What harbor shall we find? 
 f 
 
£mair 
 
 0Urt<$ 
 
 When at Death's feet I fall 
 And lie unstripped of gear, 
 £' Old Earth reclaiming all 
 
 She loaned my spirit here, 
 I pray thee take my clay 
 And shape for wine a cup; 
 The Soul that is away 
 May come again to sup. 
 
 116 Make lawful one of all 
 The wishes we express — 
 To tread the golden ball 
 Of Love, and love possess, 
 Since there, perchance, we may 
 The royal jewel find 
 In whose impartial ray 
 The blind no more are blind. 
 
 127 Since this short dream must fade, 
 Let me be happy now. 
 For what was pleasure made? 
 To be enjoyed, I vow. 
 This Eden is forbid? 
 Then let me turn aside 
 And those dear regions thrid 
 Where Freedom doth abide. 
 
 128 They who deserve the least 
 Too often gain the prize, 
 While Beauty weds the Beast 
 And Virtue, throttled, dies. 
 Injustice rules; the throne 
 Is founded deep on greed; 
 True kings are serfs unknown 
 With but the boon to bleed. 
 
129 Ho! a cup of good wine, (T^tttAt* 
 Not a kingdom, give me. TL 
 
 To the King of the Vine (JU? 
 
 My allegiance shall be. KUYlfr 
 
 Just a smile from his lips -J 
 
 Is both honor and might, 
 And the moment that slips 
 Is a jewel of light. 
 
 130 'Tis not for riot's sake, 
 Nor that the good I shun, 
 That of the cup I make 
 A friend, beloved one; 
 Oh, no; but that in wine 
 
 I from myself may flee, 
 And for an hour divine 
 Dream thou art kind to me. 
 
 131 They say there is a hell. 
 Forsooth, how can there be? 
 Romancers, please to tell 
 Consistent tales to me. 
 Why, if there were such place 
 For what was heaven planned? 
 To be a vacant space 
 
 As this my hollow hand. 
 
 132 Appoint no time for prayer 
 Nor set a day aside; 
 
 Buds bloom, leaves fall, 'tis fair, 
 'Tis foul, and moves the tide 
 And runs the wind, all days. 
 Think not upon the art, 
 But what is Good go praise 
 With an unceasing heart. 
 
bmav 
 
 What need of Paradise 
 If mercy were not Thine? 
 1/ For all do sin and rise 
 
 But through Thy grace divine. 
 What need of hell is there 
 If Thou hast mercy, Lord? 
 Thou art impartial, fair, 
 The Soul of Sweet Accord. 
 
 134 Put wisdom by to-day 
 And take the cup in hand, 
 Nor build thee dreams alway 
 That none can understand. 
 Go, sell thy silken gear 
 And buy thee cups of mirth, 
 The soul cares not to hear 
 Thou art a lord of earth. 
 
 135 This month the Prophet's is. 
 Perchance, 'tis well 'tis so; 
 Therefore I'll forfeit bliss — 
 Until my roses blow. 
 'Tis well, perhaps, sometimes 
 Sweet Pleasure's kiss to spurn, 
 That we with new-made rhymes 
 May herald her return. 
 
 136 To the sound of the flute 
 And the harp's golden voice, 
 Drink the blood of the fruit 
 From the vine of thy choice. 
 Pour a drop on the ground 
 That it never be vexed, 
 While the heart gives a bound 
 As it sighs for the next. 
 
eutt<$ 
 
 137 My merits one by one, d^tftA? 
 My faults by tens, I count; „ 
 
 Yet He doth set His sun, \J>£' 
 
 His rains to my account. 
 
 Feed not the fires of hate 
 
 With passion of the sod, 
 
 Nor mount unto His gate 
 
 With less than love for God. 
 
 138 I seek Thy love alone, 
 Subscribing to no creed, 
 The countless sects unknown — 
 To me are but as weeds. 
 The pomp and sounding phrase 
 Seem but impeding mire 
 Along the thorny ways 
 That lead to my desire. 
 
 139 When the full cup doth glimmer 
 With the blood-tingling wine, 
 Lo! the life seems to shimmer 
 Of some spirit divine. 
 Oh, the churlish ones banish 
 From a comrade so bright, 
 That the shades of woe vanish 
 And Hope come with the light. 
 
 140 This old caravanserai, 
 This world of shade and light, 
 Is but the ruin gray 
 Of many Jamshids* might, 
 A tomb where pillowed deep 
 An hundred Bahrams lie, 
 Where yet unto their sleep 
 Ten thousand yet shall fly. 
 
$}mav 
 
 If roses fade and fall, 
 Do not the thorns remain? 
 C/ The year cannot recall 
 
 The sad delights of pain. 
 Though priest and temple go, 
 The Lord will love his own; 
 They shall His mercy know 
 As they have ever known. 
 
 142 That I may them enjoy, 
 The wine and dancers bring, 
 And may no clouds annoy 
 The morning of my spring. 
 O maidens fair, and song, 
 And flagons of good wine! 
 The time may not be long 
 But it shall be divine. 
 
 143 The shuttle of the skies 
 That weaves the worlds untold 
 Forgets me as it flies 
 And strips me to the cold, 
 While my good weaver-friend 
 Doth make his shuttle speed 
 My sorry lot to mend 
 Against the winter's need. 
 
 1 44 Vex not thy heart with care 
 Nor let the mind grow sad; 
 They only find Despair 
 Who will not to be glad. 
 Still there are lutes to hear, 
 Still there is wine for thee; 
 Go, listen, drink, nor fear 
 To seek Felicity. 
 
145 Ri^es? A bubble vain (f)tttA¥ 
 The winds may blow aside, „ 
 
 A nothing that we gain yK^' 
 
 Through that great nothing, P ri de*KuYk{r 
 The Torch of Joy am I, -J 
 
 Or Jamshid's crystal cup; 
 Or quenched or broken, why 
 Should I be lifted up? 
 
 146 Arise and greet the Dawn! 
 Drink, heart, and happy be, 
 For soon thou shalt be gone 
 That now her face may see. 
 And she all mornings, heart, 
 Shall blush thy tomb above — 
 When thou hast played thy part 
 And lived thy little love. 
 
 147 If Heaven bread denies 
 Am I not prompt for war? 
 Where Honor's banner flies 
 There my good forces are. 
 Eternal shame were mine 
 Did I but think to fail, 
 And in Thy sight divine 
 Discard my spear and mail. 
 
 148 What matters it if life 
 Or sweet or bitter be? 
 Time flies so fast, the strife 
 Not long can worry thee. 
 Whether at Babylon 
 
 Or Naishapur we die, 
 The moon, still rolling on, 
 Shall silver either sky. 
 
0Utt<$ 
 
 (rttttAt? To-day while Fortune's rose 
 ^ > Is scenting every gale, 
 
 (JvC/ Why on a sea of woes 
 
 Keep tightly furled the sail? 
 
 Now, while the wind is right, 
 
 Set all thy canvas free; 
 
 Away, into the light 
 
 Of Opportunity! 
 
 1 50 The month of Ramazan 
 Is dawning in the east; 
 The days of mirth are gone 
 And every happy feast. 
 The wine, upmuffled, waits; 
 Bright eyes but haunt in vain. 
 Farewell to love ; the gates 
 Of Pleasure shut amain. 
 
 151 The palace where of old 
 Great Bahrain's feasts were spread 
 Is but a ruin cold 
 Where lordly lions tread. 
 Yea, he who snared his game, 
 By Death was snared in turn, 
 And all that's left — a name, 
 Half-vanished, on an urn. 
 
 152 Into this whirl of life 
 Too late we came, since we 
 Are baffled in the strife; 
 Hence this satiety. 
 If hope no fruit may yield 
 What are its blossoms worth? 
 Better a fallow field 
 Than thus to cumber earth. 
 
0Utt<J 
 
 153 While of this earth let me (ftftlAt* 
 No future demon fear; JvJ 
 Bring forth Felicity (KC/ 
 And I will wed her here. 
 If she in Aftermath 
 Be kept from me apart, 
 I'll wander in her path 
 And somewhat ease the smart. 
 
 1 54 Yea, that these cheeks may glow 
 And that these eyes may shine, 
 Companions, let me know 
 The comradeship of wine. 
 With wine, wine, I charge you, 
 Well drench me when I die 
 And from the vine-roots hew 
 The palace where I lie. 
 
 155 A draught of wine is more 
 Than Jamshid's golden state, 
 Its perfume's happy store 
 Than Hatim's gifts more great. 
 The sigh that wine may bring 
 Is sweeter than the mirth 
 Of kings; oh, therefore cling 
 To that of magic worth. 
 
 156 Clouds gather in the skies, 
 Down comes the merry rain ; 
 The dry earth drinks; likewise 
 Let me the goblet drain. 
 Green grow the grass and flowers 
 On hillside, plain and tomb; 
 Ah, who will love the showers 
 That coax our dust to bloom ? 
 
 g 
 
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 (rtttlAt* ^ et not tne wor ^ deceive, 
 T*£ Since its pursuits are vain, 
 
 \J\t/ Nor with the fawner leave 
 
 Thy treasury of grain. 
 Improve thy time in strife 
 Of lofty deeds and aims, 
 Upholding Truth with life — 
 The rest is Death's and Fame's. 
 
 158 The love I offer, Dear, 
 Is ready for the test; 
 What comes I shall not fear, 
 So thou dost think it best. 
 Whatever pain or grief 
 Thou givest me to bear, 
 This life were all too brief — 
 Or thou too-wondrous fair. 
 
 159 Oh, heart, my heart, this gear, 
 This pomp, is but a dream; 
 Why, striving, journey here 
 Against the rushing stream? 
 Let Fate decide thy path — 
 She will. What grief, what gold, 
 What joy for thee she hath, 
 E'en she cannot withhold. 
 
 160 What tidings from beyond? 
 Has one returned to tell? 
 Oh, hope of hopes, too fond 
 Are we on dreams to dwell. 
 Grieve not; the way is long, 
 An endless journey, Sweet, 
 Yet in the Path of Song 
 The circle grows complete. 
 
0Utt<J 
 
 1 6 1 Each day that comes and goes ^3ttt&¥ 
 From life requires a fee 
 Until at last doth close 
 The world's account with thee. 
 Then gayly pay thy debt 
 As thou wert lord of more; 
 Time scorns, nor has regret. 
 For misers and their store. 
 
 162 Monarchs like trees do fall, 
 And we like spears of grass; 
 Nought heeds the lonesome call 
 Of those who bloom and pass. 
 Then why, when suns do shine, 
 Should we refuse the light? 
 In water as in wine 
 Is sown the seed of night. 
 
 1 63 One with another day — 
 Forsooth, there's none in which 
 My heart forgets to say: 
 In life am I not rich? 
 All days to me are one 
 With threads of brightness wove, 
 And all are of the sun 
 In this sweet woof of love. 
 
 164 This flesh is chaff, yon space 
 Of seven heavens wrought, 
 Is nothing more, the grace 
 Of this short life is nought. 
 Grasp while you may Delight, 
 An unsubstantial thing, 
 And yet a merry wight — 
 A Nothing on the wing. 
 
©mar 
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 Life is a caravan 
 That passes like a dream, 
 A faint mirage, O man, 
 The shimmer of a beam. 
 Grieve not the while you last, 
 Nor unborn morrows fear, 
 For soon the hour is past 
 Wherein you tarried here. 
 
 1 66 Old Age did I behold 
 
 Forth stagger through the door; 
 
 His prayer-mat loosely rolled 
 
 He on his shoulder bore, 
 
 A flagon in his hand. 
 
 Quoth I: "How hast thou sinned! 1 
 
 "Drink wine, and understand," 
 
 Said he, "that earth is wind." 
 
 167 A nightingale divine 
 Into my garden flew, 
 And saw my cup of wine 
 And saw my roses, too. 
 Then sang she in my ear: 
 "Enjoy the sweets that be, 
 For soon the busy year 
 Will scatter thine and thee." 
 
 168 He who the Universe 
 
 And its foundations wrought, 
 
 Beset me with a curse 
 
 And stung me with a thought. 
 
 What ruby lips to earth, 
 
 What hearts to dust He dooms ! 
 
 Yea, we are but the girth 
 
 Of all down-trodden blooms. 
 
169 Yea, like unto a tent d^tttAf 
 Is this frail house of clay ^ 
 Wherein the Soul is pent (JvC/ 
 And sultan for a day. tiUYtCT 
 The monarch journeys forth, -J 
 When lo! the slave of Doom 
 
 Strikes tent, and its proud worth 
 Is raised again — for whom? 
 
 170 Poured from the hand of Heaven 
 Love exalteth every heart, 
 
 And like a precious leaven 
 Doth sweeten every smart. 
 Love is a shield, a spear — 
 Defense, and weapon too — 
 Wherewith to stay old Fear 
 Or win a kingdom new. 
 
 171 When the wind and the sun 
 Have expanded the rose, 
 And the violet won 
 
 From her dusky repose, 
 Lo! the vine burgeons too, 
 And the grape is a bud 
 That is storing a dew 
 That shall quicken our blood. 
 
 172 The good know not how sweet 
 God's mercy is to men, 
 
 But they with bleeding feet 
 Who ask and ask again. 
 Thou sayest, "Hell is mine;" 
 Forsooth thy light is dim; 
 This estimate of thine 
 Precludes thy love for Him. 
 
rf^ni/il» O Heart, bewildered guest 
 
 ^/mui of this frail house of clay> 
 
 (JvC/ Be not with grief oppressed; 
 
 tfUtl A" ^ ne wor ^ * s thine to-day. 
 
 tt wriCJ j oy ^ M i rtn and s ong i nv i t e 
 
 Thy laughing friends to be, 
 For soon descends the night 
 That stills thy house and thee. 
 
 174 How sweet is Iram's lute 
 When Genius lightly plays> 
 And Joy, no longer mute, 
 Awakes a song of praise. 
 Much of the world I know 
 And most of it is dross, 
 
 But when bright numbers flow 
 Who thinks upon his loss ! 
 
 175 Old Time, whose gifts like rain 
 Upon the unjust fall, 
 
 As on the just, gives pain 
 And joy to one and all. 
 This garden of mankind 
 Shows me a blighted rose, 
 A bud the angry wind 
 Can beat but not unclose. 
 
 1 76 Khayyam, who sewed the tents 
 Of learning for his friends, 
 Perforce is hurried hence 
 When his thread breaks or ends. 
 The world, impatient, cold, 
 Thrusts him beyond its door, 
 As for a song is sold 
 
 The slave that serves no more. 
 
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 177 With the bright and the fair (f)tttA? 
 In the gardens of spring, /Y ^ 
 
 Let us bury Despair V.KC/ 
 
 With the pomp of a king. 
 
 Let us laugh by his tomb, 
 
 Let us drink, let us sing, 
 
 Let us hide him with bloom 
 
 In the gardens of spring! 
 
 178 Sweet, oh, sweet is the wine 
 In a cup that is fair, 
 With a music divine 
 Wafted over it there. 
 Let the wise if they will 
 Go enlist in the strife, 
 But, oh, bring to me still 
 Just the roses of life! 
 
 179 Let beauty be thy aim 
 And sweet Simplicity, 
 And in their golden fame 
 Thy steadfast beacon see. 
 Fear not, if thou art wise, 
 A darker realm than this; 
 No need of paradise, 
 Here is enough of bliss. 
 
 180 This tenement of clay 
 The Soul soon wearies of 
 And from it turns away 
 To haunts it more doth love. 
 But while these walls of life 
 The stranger guest contain, 
 Let them with song be rife 
 Lest he not long remain. 
 
A\ttt/it* Unto the mosque my feet 
 
 ZL By Duty's call are led, 
 
 (TvC/ But not alone is sweet 
 
 ftUft£r What her stern lips have said, 
 
 iJ Since yet a dearer voice 
 
 Doth echo in my heart 
 And bids my soul rejoice 
 Long after I depart. 
 
 182 Wine is the earth's red blood, 
 And since the earth us kills, 
 Let us pour down a flood 
 From him who our blood spills. 
 Oh, limpid, sweet and pure, 
 Tinted and tinct with rose, 
 There is no better cure 
 
 Than wine for this world's woes. 
 
 1 83 At dawning, from the inn 
 There came a voice, "Arise, 
 And fill each cannikin 
 With liquid paradise. 
 
 Ye tavern-haunters, up 
 
 Before old Fate doth come 
 
 To fill your being's cup 
 
 With that which strikes you dumb." 
 
 1 84 To the radiant pearls 
 
 That enchant us and thrill — 
 To the beautiful girls 
 That enslave us at will, 
 Drink the blood of the grape, 
 Sing a song of good cheer, 
 Lest the tyrants escape 
 And our chains disappear! 
 
0Utt<J 
 
 185 When the roses appear, dDYIitit 
 Let the flute's mellow note 
 
 And the harp's golden cheer \J*£' 
 
 Through the gay gardens float, 
 While a rose-colored wine 
 From the flagons is poured — 
 That the season divine 
 Be divinely adored. 
 
 186 When the splendor is fled 
 From the heart of the rose, 
 When the fragrance is dead 
 Where violets repose, 
 Then the heart of my King 
 My repentance will scorn, 
 And my soul turn her wing 
 From the ramparts of Morn. 
 
 1 87 My soul and I, forsooth, 
 As a compasses seem, 
 One point affixed to truth, 
 One circling in a dream. 
 Yet soon shall come the hour 
 When we move side by side, 
 When both shall know the Power 
 That bade them once divide. 
 
 188 Not knowing whence we came, 
 Not knowing where we go, 
 Not knowing why the flame 
 Within us rages so, 
 What wonder that our fate 
 Seems something kin to dust? 
 No trumpet speaks, no gate 
 Appears, and all things rust, 
 h 
 
0Utt$ 
 
 fi\ft%*Y My heart is filled with sin. 
 
 JP* O Lord, where is Thy light? 
 
 (tv£/ So blind am I that in 
 
 This world I gather night. 
 Thou madest me to be; 
 Thou owest me a debt, 
 Which if Thou pay est me 
 I may be happy yet. 
 
 190 Of death I have no fear 
 Since death is but a truth 
 And truth is but a sphere 
 Of an immortal youth. 
 My fear alone shall be 
 That I so mix with dross 
 My soul, when it goes free, 
 Be not the sign of loss. 
 
 191 The leafy crown of fame, 
 The unsought and the sought, 
 The kingship and the game 
 Of empire — these are nought 
 To one sweet song I hear 
 By one sweet maiden sung — 
 My flute-girl's voice so clear 
 My garden blooms among. 
 
 192 When from this earth the tree 
 That now is I is torn, 
 Let them from mould of me 
 Make cups, nor grow forlorn, 
 But fill each one with wine 
 And drain and fill again; 
 So may this dust of mine 
 Give pleasure unto men. 
 
0un<$ 
 
 1 93 Our sin concerns not Thee, (J3ttt&t 
 Thou fashioned it, forsooth, „ 
 That men might clearly see v!>^ 
 How good, how bright is truth. 
 If from the higher path 
 And from the Light we stray, 
 The Whirlwind and the Wrath 
 Are but the price we pay. 
 
 194 Let us forget today, 
 Nor of tomorrow think; 
 This hour — the while we may — 
 Let us of pleasure drink. 
 Tomorrow we shall sleep 
 The dumb and dusty peers 
 Of all the dead who keep 
 The world's upswallowed years. 
 
 195 What glory, Earth, is gained 
 By our sojourning here? 
 The greatest that have reigned 
 In darkness disappear. 
 Say, what am I to Thee? 
 Mine ears have never heard. 
 Is immortality 
 A fact, or just a word? 
 
 196 Eternal Wisdom, Thou 
 Who numbereth every hair, 
 And settest on man's brow 
 Thy signet proud and fair, 
 How may we think to move 
 Through life, deceiving Thee, 
 Returning for Thy love 
 A rank hypocrisy? 
 
sung 
 
 dT)\Yl&t Good Ramazan is gone, 
 rv% The saint of all the year. 
 
 [Jf\C/ Behold, the rosy dawn 
 
 Of Merriment is here! 
 On Wisdom's cheek divine 
 The flagon breeds a mole, 
 Yet there are wings in wine 
 For every weary soul. 
 
 198 The wisdom hid in wine, 
 The knowledge and the might, 
 Like jewels in a mine 
 Not in the rough are bright, 
 But when digged up and wrought 
 And held in some strong ray 
 They sparkle, thought on thought, 
 And dazzle day with day. 
 
 199 There is mirth in the grape 
 And happiness astir 
 When its juices escape 
 For the gay vintager. 
 To Sorrow fling the gage; 
 When eyes like a flower 
 Lend their charm to the page 
 Why look for the shower? 
 
 aoo What then is merit, pray, . 
 If at the final hour 
 The knave turns white as day 
 Through some absolving power? 
 If justice is not here, 
 I see no reason plain 
 Why in some other sphere 
 Injustice may not reign. 
 
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 201 While you may, lift your voice (£)tttAt 
 In the nightingale's choir, Tj 
 With the wine of your choice \J>£' 
 Fill the cup of desire. 
 There's a song in the tide 
 Of the grape as it flows, 
 And a kiss for the bride 
 That is sweet as the rose. 
 
 202 I covet not, therefore 
 Am I released from debt — 
 From him who sighs for more, 
 From Envy and Regret. 
 Of one alone let me 
 Be jealous as a king, 
 So may my soul be free 
 To give Him everything. 
 
 203 I pray thee, Wheel of Heaven, 
 Release me from thy spite, 
 Since not to me is given 
 To wander in thy light. 
 Thy favors fall on fools 
 The while the wise want food; 
 Thou teachest in thy schools 
 The dunces are the good. 
 
 204 If wine in Paradise 
 The faithful soul may drink, 
 Why is it in His eyes 
 So gross of it to think? 
 An Arab, deep in wine, 
 His faithful camel slew, 
 Therefore the Seer divine 
 The right to wine withdrew. 
 
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 AVftA? Of past delights no more 
 „ Than memory remains, 
 
 \J\t$ Yet what a dreamful store 
 
 Of ever-blooming grains ! 
 The happy mind may still 
 Its joy in others sow, 
 As last year's grape doth fill 
 Our cup with ruby glow. 
 
 206 In this mad world of dreams 
 Make haste to gather bloom, 
 And like the laughing streams 
 Forestall the day of doom. 
 Oh, not through sorrow, Dear, 
 The realm of Truth is found, 
 But where the gay appear 
 Is her immortal ground. 
 
 207 My love its topmost flame 
 Has reached, and can no more, 
 As souls that love His name 
 To His high heaven soar. 
 Thy beauty gladdens me; 
 Thy virtues are so bright 
 I can but worship Thee 
 As roses do the light. 
 
 208 Let happiness increase 
 In this old world of woe 
 Until the song of Peace 
 Its every heart shall know. 
 Confusion, fire and death 
 To all who Joy forbid, 
 Since in his healing breath 
 The spring of Truth is hid. 
 
0Utt£ 
 
 209 Thou miser, mark me well, (fttttA? 
 No good art thou on earth, zjl 
 Immured in narrow cell vj££' 
 And high arch-fiend of Mirth. 
 Yea, worse than this thou art, 
 A vampire to the race 
 That suckest from the heart 
 What thou canst not replace. 
 
 210 When we are gone with Death, 
 How long the world will move, 
 And never any breath 
 To whisper of our love. 
 The ages ere we came 
 Were not devoid of light, 
 Nor those to come our fame 
 Shall need to make them bright. 
 
 211 How long wilt thou seek out 
 The vanities of earth? 
 How long vex thee about 
 Things evil or of worth? 
 Wert thou the fount of youth 
 Or one of Heaven's springs 
 Thou couldst not sweeten Truth 
 Nor soil her spotless wings. 
 
 an Within Life's book our name 
 The hand of nature sets, 
 Which having done, the same 
 Hand blots, and soon forgets. 
 Thou bearer of the cup, 
 Bring ruby wine to me; 
 Since earth must swallow up 
 Let my earth happy be. 
 
&un$ 
 
 dr\\WftY Each day is poison-tinct, 
 „ Since day by day we die; 
 
 \JvC2 Therefore, let me be linked 
 
 With Mirth as time goes by; 
 Within my cup a draught 
 That's antidote to woe, 
 Which, when I have quaffed, 
 Shall cheer the path I go. 
 
 214 Behold the sects that think 
 The world with them must kneel, 
 Or into Darkness sink 
 And Allah's anger feel. 
 Vex not thy mind, O friend; 
 The path of right is thine, 
 Which, well pursued, doth end 
 Not far from the Divine. 
 
 215 Grief is a constant guest, 
 But we must summer Joy 
 And make within the breast 
 A bright nook for the boy, 
 Else he depart full soon; 
 He loveth not the shades, 
 But revels in the noon 
 And wearies when it fades. 
 
 216 Arise, and let the sun 
 Into thy clouded heart, 
 Before the day is done 
 And night takes up her part. 
 Oh, dream no more; awake, 
 And cast thy fear aside, 
 And this glad Morning take 
 To be thy rosy bride. 
 
217 A bitter war I wage (TVtt/lt* 
 
 With giant Sin, forsooth, 
 Yet I unto his rage (j^' 
 
 Am but a pigmy truth. KUYtCT 
 
 I weaken in the fight; -J 
 
 My heart grows sick in me 
 To think that in Thy sight 
 I am so churl to Thee. 
 
 a 1 8 They who for foolish gain 
 Have set the truth aside 
 And worship but the vain 
 And nurse their souls on pride, 
 Makeup the noughts of time 
 That hedge with hollow shame 
 The sun of the Sublime 
 And flaunt its golden fame. 
 
 1 1 9 When the steeds of the stars 
 Were first bridled on high, 
 And the planets their cars 
 Hurried first through the sky, 
 From the Throne of the All 
 Went the thought of our path; 
 If a soul rise or fall — 
 In His plan thus He hath. 
 
 iio Oh, that I might withdraw 
 
 From this vain world, and rest, 
 Or, reading right the Law, 
 Give peace unto my breast. 
 Nor this nor that, it seems, 
 Is given us to do, 
 But strife, and hope, and dreams 
 With glimpses of the true. 
 
(£e? 
 
 0Utt<$ 
 
 drSyHAt Woe's me for that which slips 
 Away of golden worth; 
 Woe's me! the sweetest lips 
 Must kiss the sodden earth. 
 Woe's me that they come not 
 Who once have gone away. 
 To tell if love's forgot 
 Or hath a brighter day. 
 
 222 Since once this earth was drowned. 
 Oh, ages long ago, 
 Come, send the flagon round 
 And let the nectar flow; 
 'Tis ours to silence Grief 
 In this rose-colored tide, 
 And find the olive leaf 
 That this dark sea doth hide. 
 
 223 Alas! our youth decays, 
 The spring of youth goes by, 
 The bird of April days 
 Flecks not our winter sky, 
 Nor comes again to sing 
 On our forsaken shore, 
 While earth renews her spring 
 From an eternal store. 
 
 224 Make level with the earth 
 The tomb wherein I lie, 
 That no rude shock to mirth 
 May come when she goes by. 
 So let me sleep, forgot, 
 Except some song I sing, 
 Like a forget-me-not, 
 In her remembrance spring. 
 
0un<j 
 
 225 The Captain Ruby bring &}n%/\r 
 And throne it in the light, no 
 And our beloved king, \J+l' 
 The prince of men, invite; 
 And since all dwellers here 
 So soon inhabit dust, 
 Bring hither wine as clear 
 As he is good and just. 
 
 226 Oh, Thou whom all desire 
 Yet whom no heart may find, 
 Still keep alive the fire 
 Of incense in the mind. 
 That we are deaf to Thee, 
 That we are blind, we feel, 
 Yet wheresoe'er we be, 
 Protect us, Lord, and heal. 
 
 227 Why frown upon thy fate? 
 Oh, rather with a smile 
 Go meet her at the gate 
 And laugh with her the while. 
 Let every moment be 
 A little dream of bliss, 
 Which, as it flies from thee, 
 Takes hence a loving kiss. 
 
 228 O cyprus-slender maid 
 And tinted like a flower, 
 Ere all thy beauty fade, 
 Enjoy thy little hour. 
 Pluck the bright blossoms now, 
 Ere they begin to fall, 
 Or round about thy brow 
 The wild winds whirl them all. 
 
&Utt<$ 
 
 ft\+ft av Oh, proud and tyrant Wheel 
 
 fV ^ That rollest through the sky, 
 
 (JvC/ Unanswering our zeal 
 
 And making men to die, 
 Thou heedest not our pain, 
 But where its seat is found 
 With double weight amain 
 Thou pressest on the wound. 
 
 230 This great dome of the sky, 
 And under which we move 
 Like shadows till we die 
 And lose the dreams we love, 
 Is but a lantern small, 
 Wherein the sun is light, 
 Hung in some nook of All 
 Shall also have its night. 
 
 23 1 Shadows and phantasms 
 Make up this world so strange 
 And all its peaks and chasms 
 Are but its fields of change. 
 Lose not thyself in fear; 
 Thou canst not miss the light, 
 Nor time, nor tide uprear 
 A hand against thy right. 
 
 232 Sweet daughters of the vine 
 Bring hither of your store, 
 The rosy-colored wine 
 That cheers me more and more. 
 Too short the time, O maids, 
 We dwell with thee and Mirth, 
 But long among the shades 
 Are we with Mother Earth. 
 
0Utt<J 
 
 For every cup of pleasure d^tttAI* 
 
 There is a cup of rue, 
 
 For every happy measure (j*^ 
 
 A rhyme of sorrow, too. 
 
 Still, let us live and drink, 
 
 Still, let us live and sing; 
 
 We know not on the brink 
 
 What our last day may bring. 
 
 Oh, that the sons of Greed 
 Were not the lords of gold, 
 That Worth were prince indeed 
 And master of the fold, 
 How many hearts that bleed 
 Might laugh and leap in glee — 
 No longer slaves to Need 
 But free among the free. 
 
 O bard that findest Fate 
 Hast closed her tents to thee 
 And therefore ceased debate 
 This side Eternity, 
 A brother to the stone 
 And almoner to Pain 
 Remember not alone 
 Thou knockest, and in vain. 
 
 The day wherein that I 
 Am to myself unknown — 
 No more a passer-by, 
 A myth unto mine own — 
 Mixed with the All again, 
 Hope that I may renew 
 Myself, and be to men 
 More helpful and more true. 
 
bmat 
 
 Thy hand, O Lord, didst sow; 
 I am what thou didst will; 
 i/ What tares, what wheat shall grow 
 
 The Reaper reapeth still. 
 How can I change Thy way? 
 How can I set at nought 
 What since the primal day 
 Wast written in thy thought? 
 
 1238 These high and mighty lords, 
 Beset by care and grief, 
 The same as all the hordes 
 Of this small life and brief, 
 Still frown and view with scorn 
 Their brothers of the dust 
 Who happen to be born 
 To lesser rounds of lust. 
 
 239 Behold, the bard is fled 
 And the sad season sighs, 
 And the last rose is dead 
 Where the old poet lies. 
 Oh, the pearls they were few 
 The cold world cared to thrid, 
 And the throng never knew 
 What his rich bosom hid. 
 
 240 With some fast friend to sit, 
 Or wander through the grove; 
 To sound the sea of wit, 
 To taste the sweets of love, 
 Say, what hath life more good 
 Or this old sphere more fair? 
 They fire the very blood 
 And dull the sting of care. 
 
0un<j 
 
 241 Oh, love is like a fire (ftttt/ll* 
 That's kindled in the breast, „ 
 Which Heaven doth inspire \j*£' 
 To be of worth the test. 
 And where the altar burns 
 With bright and willing ray, 
 To it the god returns 
 With incense day by day. 
 
 242 One glance of love is more 
 Than many looks that frown; 
 The ruby wine we pour, 
 Is better than a crown. 
 What is more fair than Truth? 
 Go, seek her fount and live; 
 She is immortal youth 
 And hath a world to give. 
 
 243 When I the race behold 
 In ignorance asleep, 
 And think on those untold 
 That lie so dusty-deep, 
 I sigh, yet mourn me more 
 To think of men to come — 
 Born to this sodden store, 
 And in a time so dumb. 
 
 244 Thy mercy hath no end, 
 Therefore I do not fear; 
 Thy goodness is a friend 
 That journeys with me here. 
 The terrors of the Book 
 Are not Thy terrors, Lord; 
 To Thee I will but look, 
 And Thy unwritten Word. 
 
eun§ 
 
 I saw in the bazaar 
 A potter knead his clay, 
 C/ And as the Morning Star 
 
 Hints silently of Day, 
 I heard a small voice chime: 
 "Be merciful to me 
 That once upon a time 
 Wast not unlike to thee." 
 
 246 A loan is all thou hast 
 Of this world's pomp and gear, 
 And it falls due at last 
 And leaves thee ashes here. 
 Set not thy heart on things 
 The soul doth scorn as dross; 
 The mind that only clings 
 To truth can laugh at loss. 
 
 247 To-day the sky is fair, 
 The dew has laved the rose 
 And through the gentle air 
 A laughing odor goes. 
 Now sings the nightingale, 
 Deep hidden in the grove, 
 Her ever wondrous tale 
 Of melody and love. 
 
 248 May this love for the fair 
 But increase with the years; 
 In the land of Despair, 
 In the valley of Tears, 
 May it gleam as a light, 
 Or a beacon at sea, 
 Leading on through the night 
 To the temple of Thee. 
 
The great wheel turns, and lo! (^flt/lt* 
 
 The Potter shapes his clay. 
 And as new vessels grow, v£^' 
 
 The old are cast away. ftUYkfi' 
 
 Could youth and beauty feel -3 
 
 What dreams they soon shall prove. 
 How they would curse the Wheel 
 And doubt the lips of Love. 
 
 250 When far my soul shall pass 
 From this bid ruin gray, 
 And as dead leaves of grass 
 This house is whirled away, 
 With what supreme content 
 Shall I the Builder see 
 Recast this earthly tent — 
 That shall not shelter me. 
 
 251 Again the cheek of Dawn 
 Is blushing in the east. 
 
 O youth! ere she is gone, 
 Spread thou the rosy feast. 
 Wait not, nor dream of her, 
 But flee into her arms; 
 Be her first worshipper 
 And last to view her charms. 
 
 252 What boots it where we climb? 
 Again to earth we fall, 
 
 And knowing the Sublime 
 Seem farther from the All. 
 Proud Intellect! with scorn 
 The Heavens note thy flight, 
 And match thy every morn 
 With equal show of night. 
 
 J 
 
(DtfttoV * n "S* 1 * S°°d company 
 -jj Good wine alone should flow; 
 
 \JvC/ And there should Laughter be 
 
 0U1tCr ^ nc * ^it ms wonders show. 
 
 -J Oh, wine was never aged 
 
 For other souls than those 
 Whom Wisdom hath engaged 
 And high-born honor knows. 
 
 254 The joys of life are thine; 
 Forswear them not, I pray; 
 With Laughter, Love and Wine 
 Be friends the while you may. 
 Too soon the frosts of Time 
 The fields of youth destroy, 
 And every lyric rhyme 
 
 Ends with a dirge to Joy. 
 
 255 The wind drinks up the leaves 
 Of all the roses fair; 
 
 The morn the dew deceives 
 And drinks the grasses bare. 
 The greedy groves do drain 
 The nightingale of song, 
 And while we here remain 
 Let us drink deep and long. 
 
 256 Oh, not to-morrow, Sweet, 
 Of kisses let us dream; 
 Who knows our sandaled feet 
 May cross to-morrow's stream? 
 Propitious is the hour 
 
 For love and laughter now; 
 Time breathes upon the flower 
 And vacant is the bough. 
 
€>mat 
 
 257 If in a future state 
 A perfect bliss be ours, 
 Why mourn or hesitate \J>£' 
 To pluck life's morning flowers? 
 Choose thou the sunny path 
 And shun the gloomy waste; 
 What Heaven only hath 
 We should not fear to taste. 
 
 258 When friends refuse to pour 
 The merry wine for me, 
 And April skies no more 
 The budding blossoms see, 
 Then will I cast aside 
 The Muse and her delights, 
 And take another bride 
 To sigh for rainy nights. 
 
 259 The hills themselves would leap 
 With ecstasy divine 
 Shouldst thou each rocky steep 
 But drench with rosy wine. 
 The trees would laugh with glee 
 And clap their hands for hours 
 Could they, like thee and me, 
 Command these ruby showers. 
 
 260 In the kingdom of Soul 
 Oh, whisper not of earth, 
 Nor round its borders roll 
 The careless noise of mirth; 
 It is a realm, forsooth, 
 Where Contemplation dwells, 
 And all its laws are Truth, 
 Whose voice is Israfel's. 
 
fi}*y>Af Make fellowship with Truth 
 
 And to her temples go, 
 (JvC/ And thou the golden youth 
 
 ftXltoft Of all the gods shalt know. 
 
 15 Move, therefore, to thy end 
 
 With stateliness and grace, 
 And thy Eternal Friend 
 Shall greet thee face to face. 
 
 161 Nor slave nor tyrant be 
 And humble be thy nest, 
 So shall Tranquillity 
 Count thee among her blest. 
 A crust, with calm content, 
 A draught from nature's spring, 
 And kingdoms may be rent 
 Nor thou lose anything. 
 
 163 Sometimes the stream is clear, 
 Sometimes a torrent dark, 
 Yet from the margin here 
 All fearless I embark. 
 I know the Fountain-head 
 Is bright as brightest day 
 And soon shall overspread 
 And wash the dark away. 
 
 164. The wisdom of good cheer 
 Let every mortal learn, 
 And in his bosom clear 
 The light of courage burn — 
 A store of happiness 
 Against some famine fierce — 
 When no bright blossoms bless 
 And thorns the sandals pierce. 
 
16$ If you befriends of mine tDwi&t 
 
 Your vain discourses cease ^^ 
 
 And fill my cup with wine, \K£' 
 
 The dreamy wine of peace. ftUftA" 
 
 I would not that my dust iJ 
 
 Be moistened by your grief 
 Since nourish soon it must 
 The bridal bud and leaf. 
 
 266 We go no step beyond 
 The bounds of what we are, 
 Nor in our dreaming fond 
 Reach one eternal star 
 Outside ourselves, forsooth; 
 Our hell in conscience lies, 
 And Yore the throne of Truth 
 We fix our paradise. 
 
 267 Give me of joy to-day 
 And let to-morrow bring, 
 Oh, whatsoever may 
 
 Be hid beneath her wing. 
 They talk of paradise 
 And of the glories there; 
 To-day, to-day mine eyes 
 Would feast upon the fair. 
 
 268 At times my heart doth seem 
 Shut in a prison cell, 
 Where it can only dream 
 Of what it loves so well. 
 
 O liberty and light! 
 Alas, ye are denied 
 Until the hand of Might 
 Puts these cold chains aside. 
 
©mat 
 
 The moon of Ramazan 
 O Sweet, will soon appear, 
 £ $ And in its splendor wan 
 
 >u ^£, Frown coldly on good cheer. 
 
 8UTI 5 Another kiss, I pray; 
 
 So holy and so pure, 
 It can but shame the ray 
 That would such passion cure. 
 
 270 The Potter that with thought 
 And skill and judgment fine 
 His helpless clay hath wrought 
 To beautiful design — 
 
 Will He in anger sore 
 Condemn what He hath made 
 And prove Himself no more 
 Than 'prentice at his trade? 
 
 27 1 Oh, the wine in the glass 
 Is like unto a flame, 
 Or the blush of a lass 
 That hears her lover's name. 
 Drink, then, and happy be _ 
 And warm thy heart the while, 
 Lest Sorrow sadden thee,^ 
 Till thou no more can smile. 
 
 272 Oh, nought of glory, Lord, 
 Is this poor life to Thee, 
 And can I shame Thy Word, 
 However mean I be? 
 Forgive me, then, that I 
 
 So follow this old earth; 
 
 We cannot well defy 
 
 The one who gave us birth. 
 
273 We wallow deep in greed, fam/ir 
 We walk with Pomp and Pride v^ m «* 
 And on the feasts we feed Q>C/ 
 Of every sin beside. ttu%%/r 
 Oh, Thy forgiveness, Lord, eWI *3 
 Full pardon in Thy sight, 
 
 Since Thou with sweet accord 
 Canst make our black as white. 
 
 274 Alas, the heart can find 
 No comfort in this round, 
 Nor can the prying mind 
 The deeps of being sound. 
 My soul is sick to go 
 
 And yet I know not where — 
 But from this sphere of woe 
 To some diviner air. 
 
 275 When the day in the east 
 With opal splendor blooms, 
 Behold how it doth feast 
 On dews born of the glooms. 
 So these dark lives of ours 
 Some brightness may distil, 
 Which Truth for her own flowers 
 May claim and cherish still. 
 
 276 How long wilt thou be vain 
 And count thee more than chaff? 
 Dost thou not know to gain 
 The world is but to laugh? 
 Part of the All thou art, 
 
 And wert thou king of kings, 
 Thou couldst but play a part 
 That soon were one with things. 
 

 e\m$ 
 
 Beloved, bid them bring 
 Fresh roses for our brows, 
 And bid the singers sing, 
 While we revow our vows. 
 The future will not heed 
 The tombs where we shall lie, 
 Nor our inscriptions read 
 To find its treasures by. 
 
 278 Oh, the heart that is learned 
 In the love of the vine 
 Not easily is turned 
 
 On the Koran to dine. 
 Let the fond devotee 
 Himself fasting employ, 
 But oh bring not to me 
 Just the promise of joy. 
 
 279 If thou wouldst happy be 
 Seek not the ways of wealth; 
 Be thankful to be free 
 And for the boon of health. 
 Set not thy heart on things 
 That laden thee with care; 
 To nature's crystal springs 
 Fly oft and worship there. 
 
 280 Two paths before us lead; 
 One is a darksome way, 
 One through a pleasant mead 
 With many blossoms gay. 
 Fear not to choose, nor vex 
 Thee at the happy choice, 
 Since in this great vortex 
 Thou hast not final voice. 
 
bmav 
 
 0Utt<$ 
 
 281 'Tis said that at the last 
 Our Gentle Friend will rave 
 And His poor children cast \£*t/ 
 In some unfathomed cave. 
 From Goodness Good alone 
 In endless stream doth pour; 
 Fear not that the Unknown 
 Is less than truth, or more. 
 
 282 Before thy name is tossed 
 Into the night of time, 
 Be no glad moment lost 
 To sing a merry rhyme. 
 Unbind the tresses fair 
 Of her the gods have sent, 
 And wreathe thy roses there 
 With love and be content. 
 
 283 Dash down the glass of fame 
 And fill the cup again; 
 There's nothing in a name 
 Nor in the praise of men. 
 Behold the wine of day 
 Incarnadine the east! 
 Now fades the night away 
 And Glory spreads her feast. 
 
 284 Oh, search that ends in nought; 
 Oh, path that leads to night, 
 How fruitless is our thought, 
 How limited our sight. 
 Stars, stars and ever stars 
 With not one glimpse of Thee, 
 But age — and grief — and scars, 
 And longing to be free. 
 k 
 
ftttldt Before the knave or clown, 
 
 Oh, mention not her name 
 
 
 Lest some rude thought should drown 
 The perfume of her fame; 
 But only where the bright 
 Their lofty converse hold, 
 Speak thou of her, since light 
 Loves light, and gold loves gold. 
 
 286 Oh, Wheel of highest Heaven 
 Thou flllest us with grief; 
 The joy to us is given 
 Thou makest all too brief; 
 Thou changest in an hour 
 The smile into a tear, 
 And sendest every flower 
 Too soon unto its bier. 
 
 1287 When in the Book of Love 
 Thy name is written, Dear, 
 Of all the powers above 
 Thou needest have no fear. 
 Eternity cannot 
 Erase the legend fair, 
 Nor wilt thou be forgot 
 By any worthy there. 
 
 288 Who loves the cheek of Morn 
 Rich-tinted with the rose, 
 Ah, he has felt the thorn 
 That in his garden grows. 
 Alas, the dreams of bliss 
 That with our waking go! 
 Alas, the thorns they miss 
 Who see no roses blow! 
 
0Utt<J 
 
 289 In love forget thy care d^tttAtf 
 And end Misfortune's reign, Tl 
 
 Go, drink the finer air \jyt/ 
 
 Of mountain and of plain, 
 
 Whose alchemy is such 
 
 That life shall prove a boon; 
 
 Go, put it to the touch — 
 
 And court the lady Moon. 
 
 290 Give me to eat that I 
 May feed this soul of mine, 
 Until it leaves to fly 
 In ether more divine. 
 I covet paradise; 
 Let me not fall, I ask, 
 But ever as I rise 
 Grow stronger with the task. 
 
 291 When in the spring the flowers 
 Are blooming everywhere, 
 Light tarries in his bowers 
 And gentle grows the air. 
 Oh, who can blame mankind 
 If with a lightsome heart 
 And with a merry mind 
 It plays the lover's part? 
 
 292 Oh, dwellers in the tombs, 
 What more than dust are we 
 That soon unto your glooms 
 Shall enter and be free? 
 Give me to drink the wine 
 Of that which yet shall prove 
 A ministrant divine 
 To some sweet soul I love! 
 
AVfl£f Beloved one and sweet, 
 It ever seems to me 
 
 eung 
 
 t/ That when we chance to meet 
 
 My soul is lost to thee. 
 Enough of paradise! 
 If ever I might sit 
 And gaze into those eyes 
 And drink thy ready wit. 
 
 294 To search the livelong night 
 For truth among the stars; 
 To send from light to light 
 High thought in flaming cars — 
 Such is a pleasure keen 
 That is not all of earth; 
 While mighty lords careen 
 In their proud fields of worth. 
 
 295 Oh, not within thy heart 
 The plant of woe sustain, 
 But bid the seedling start 
 Of joy, and mark the gain; 
 And like a garden fair 
 The blossoming shall be 
 With every fragrance there 
 To cheer and comfort thee. 
 
 296 Thou settest many snares 
 Wherein our feet may fall, 
 And sayest: "Whoso fares 
 This way shall lose his all." 
 Since Thou dost know how weak 
 Thy children are, O Lord, 
 What credit shouldst Thou seek 
 From those who are restored? 
 
297 The way thou goest, friend, (fttftAl* 
 The yet unborn shall go, t£ 
 
 On — on unto the end \Jv£' 
 
 Of this delusive show — KVLWft 
 
 And soon the Potter's hand -3 
 
 Will shape thy shapeless clay 
 As fancy may demand, 
 Weep thou or smile to-day. 
 
 298 Happy is he, O friend, 
 That never mounts to fame, 
 Nor sees his fellows bend 
 At mention of his name, 
 Since better 'tis to reign 
 Possessor of the crown 
 
 Of quiet peace than gain 
 The kingdom of renown. 
 
 299 Yea, like unto a face, 
 
 O lovely Rose thou art, 
 In which celestial grace 
 Is mirrored from the heart. 
 A dear familiar friend 
 Thou seemest unto me, 
 In whom there is no end 
 Of love and charity. 
 
 300 Drunk with the dross of earth, 
 How sodden we become 
 
 To things of active worth, 
 And blind and deaf and dumb. 
 Bubbles and butterflies 
 Man chases to his doom, 
 Drowns woe in woe, and dies — 
 A tomb within a tomb. 
 
0tm<5 
 
 &}\\tAt ^ ot to t ^ ie sma ^ °f heart, 
 Nor to the cheap of wit, 
 
 (JvC/ Is given the honored part 
 
 With the elect to sit. 
 Who knoweth not the rose 
 Unto its soul is lost — 
 A worm that in it grows 
 Yet is a worm at most. 
 
 302 Thou only, Lord, canst ope 
 The gate revealing Thee, 
 Thou only art the hope, 
 The fount that saveth me. 
 My hand in Thine alone 
 With confidence I place 
 Though dark the great Unknown 
 And hidden be Thy tace. 
 
 303 Lo! drunken with a dream 
 I wasted half my life 
 In drifting down the stream 
 That knew nor toil nor strife. 
 Alas! the dreadful cost; 
 I fear me in this hour, 
 To Age is wholly lost 
 The fruitage of the flower. 
 
 304 Knee-deep we wade in sin 
 And thy commandments break, 
 And in this wordly din 
 Forget thee and forsake; 
 Yea when beset by shame 
 And victims of our pride, 
 We curse Thy holy name 
 And pierce Thy tender side. 
 
Engrossed with this vain world (F}tt\/\Y 
 And blind to higher things, 
 If to destruction hurled \*}*l' 
 
 I would not ask for wings. fftltUt 
 
 Thus for a stoup of wine -J 
 
 I pawned myself as wage; 
 The tapster said, in fine: 
 "Lo! what a perfect gage!" 
 
 While nightingales have sown 
 With song the shadows deep, 
 How many nights have flown 
 Nor touched our lids with sleep. 
 Before the breath of day 
 Shall waken hearts to pain, 
 Go not; for once away, 
 How many nights shall wane! 
 
 Two things are wisdom's base 
 And time's eternal glory, 
 The safeguard of the race 
 And triumph's laurel story: 
 Believe not all that's writ 
 Of man or god or devil, 
 And never flank your wit 
 With forces kin to evil. 
 
 Oh, haughty devotee, 
 Art thou the rod of scorn, 
 That thou shouldst leer at me 
 And be my rose's thorn? 
 Away! and with thee take 
 Cant and hypocrisy; 
 I care not to forsake 
 The friends I love, for thee. 
 
0un<j 
 
 (ftttt At* Spring unfoldeth her sweet buds 
 rl And autumn hurls away, 
 
 (jvC' Until the naked woods, 
 
 As our spent lives, are gray. 
 O memory of times 
 When we were only young 1 
 How sad are April's rhymes 
 By old December sung. 
 
 310 Oh thou whose heart should be 
 Remorse's inmost shrine, 
 Why dost thou rail at me 
 Or pray for me or mine? 
 If God should answer thee, 
 Methinks that Satan might, 
 Upon his bended knee, 
 Set all the world aright. 
 
 3 1 1 Art full of heaviness? 
 Go, eat the food of dreams, 
 Or to thy hot lips press 
 The grape's delicious streams. 
 Refusing that or this, 
 Go nibble of thy crust, 
 And the dry altar kiss 
 That's only fed with dust. 
 
 312 Reason, no longer I 
 Will be thy foolish slave, 
 But will the pleasure try 
 That life at starting gave. 
 If fifty years I stay 
 Or one, it matters not; 
 The Potter gets his clay 
 And we are soon forgot. 
 
313 A wise man once I met d3ltt&t 
 
 And with a drunkard's face, ^ 
 
 And as the wine he set, vl>£' 
 
 I said with solemn grace: tfUttfl" 
 
 "The absent — where are they?" -3 
 
 Said he: "Drink! unconcerned; 
 Many have gone away 
 That never have returned." 
 
 3 14 Who brought me here — or Woe 
 Or Weal — I cannot say; 
 
 The joys of life, I know, 
 Exalt my soul to-day. 
 The voice of love is dear, 
 The sounding lute is sweet, 
 The blooming garden here 
 An unwatched Eden-seat. 
 
 315 The world's great rose, the dawn, 
 Has blossomed in the east; 
 And, ere the blush be gone, 
 Spread thou the rosy feast. 
 
 Lo! Jamschid and his peers, 
 And yet a thousand kings, 
 Sleep in the tomb of years 
 O'er which this glory springs. 
 
 316 I drink my mellow wine, 
 And there are some who say 
 'Tis foe of the divine, 
 And bid me turn away. 
 Now, therefore, am I proud; 
 As I the creed oppose, 
 
 I drink, since 'tis allowed 
 To drink the blood of foes. 
 1 
 
sun<$ 
 
 If I in will were free 
 
 And free from wordly fate, 
 
 I had not come to be 
 
 The plaything of this state; 
 
 Or had I chosen life, 
 
 And yet could have my will, 
 
 Despite the bitter strife, 
 
 Td hug my phantoms still. 
 
 318 How is it grapes are sour, 
 And then are sweet, I pray? 
 How is it that the flower 
 Has not the fruit's bouquet? 
 How is it that the hand 
 Can fashion lutes to-day, 
 To-morrow thrill the land 
 Sword-thrusting in the fray? 
 
 319 Came one, foul-favored, gaunt, 
 Rag-clad and sexless, pale, 
 And with a silent taunt 
 Made all our laughter fail: 
 Broke in his ghostly hand 
 Life's flagon in a trice, 
 As though the deed were grand 
 And wine without a price. 
 
 320 Things past and things to come — 
 Coeval I shall be 
 With them in my last home, 
 Heir to antiquity, 
 And to the future heir. 
 Why, then, should this short hour 
 Provoke me with its care 
 Or I seek fame or power? 
 
321 Out upon the hypocrite ftttt&t 
 And out upon the vain, ^y 
 And in with spritely wit vi*^' 
 And in with Laughters train. 0UUCT 
 These gaudy robes of prayer, -* 
 These turbans of the great 
 
 I'd sell for any spare 
 
 Old heart of honest weight. 
 
 322 When at her feet, O Heart, 
 Thou tremblest in a dream, 
 Lost to thyself, thou art 
 Thyself in her bright beam. 
 Yea, wandering before, 
 Thou wast a desert child 
 That at her shining door 
 Art found, and reconciled. 
 
 313 The path of Truth pursue, 
 No creed can more demand; 
 To them that ask of you 
 Close not too tight the hand. 
 Speak ill of none, and do 
 No wrong to any man: 
 Heaven has no broader view 
 Nor gods a better plan. 
 
 324 Bestir thyself; thy home, 
 Perforce, awhile is here, 
 Beneath the starry dome 
 Of this unfeeling sphere; 
 If earth is earth, at least 
 With hope about it move; 
 Look ever to the east 
 And sound the depths of love. 
 
B\m$ 
 
 /TSyhAY ° n > heart, thou canst not learn 
 IV The secret all would know, 
 
 (JvC/ But every night return 
 
 Unto the morning's woe. 
 
 If so thou canst, create 
 
 On earth thy heaven to-day; 
 
 If thou shalt love or hate 
 
 The future, who can say? 
 
 326 If thou hast wit, seem dull, 
 That from sweet Wisdom come 
 Thy cup with knowledge full, 
 And thou be not so dumb. 
 But is thy learning small, 
 Seem deep, and haunt the wise, 
 That from their lips may fall 
 The best that in them lies. 
 
 327 Oh, would that we might be 
 Just Honor's thrall and thine, 
 Modest Simplicity, 
 That hath a face divine; 
 The burdens we must bear 
 Were lighter than the wind, 
 And all the world were fair 
 And every glance were kind. 
 
 328 Couldst thou but understand 
 One petal of this rose, 
 Oh 'twere voluble, and 
 Thou wouldst know what Heaven know 
 Cease, cease thy delving, friend, 
 The Truth thou canst not find 
 Until this journey end 
 In Universal Mind. 
 
329 An Aristotle, wise; &}\%iftY 
 
 A Roman Caesar, great; rn 
 
 Or, under eastern skies vj^' 
 
 Some grand Mogul of state, — KUftCT 
 
 Yet would I say to thee -J 
 
 Partake of Jamschid's wine; 
 The grave thy end shall be, 
 Nor Bahrain's less than thine. 
 
 330 Unto a sot a shiekh 
 
 Did cast the stone of blame, 
 Who answered him: "Go seek 
 The man that is not lame; 
 Thy servant is not whole; 
 Yet in thy heart but gaze 
 And tell me if thy soul 
 Condemns thee or doth praise." 
 
 ^2 1 Youth, wine and love have we, 
 Beloved of my soul, 
 For what can these gifts be? 
 Oh, surely not for dole. 
 The first of these will go, 
 The last may vanish soon; 
 Bring wine, bring wine, that woe 
 Come not till afternoon. 
 
 332 That hermit of the breast, 
 The heart that never sleeps, 
 With what unwearied zest 
 At his vain task he keeps. 
 Deny him not, I pray, 
 A draught of ruddy wine; 
 Oh, to be old and gray 
 Yet know not the divine. 
 
sun<$ 
 
 (fttttAt* ^ sorry path we travel 
 „ In this old world of ours, 
 
 ^JvC/ A path of cant and cavil — 
 
 A path of thorns and flowers. 
 
 Oh, blame us not if we 
 
 Do sometimes please the Devil, 
 
 Mistaking what we see 
 
 For good, and finding evil. 
 
 334 See how the jar doth try 
 To drink this ruby tide, 
 Yet ever goeth dry — 
 When long we sit beside. 
 Oh, Tantalus of mine, 
 I would that I had might 
 To let thee sip this wine 
 And taste of my delight. 
 
 335 This mortal house is more 
 Decrepit than we know; 
 Not longer than three score 
 Set thou the date to go; 
 And while the Shadow stays 
 Beyond thy threshold fair, 
 Bridge not with gloom thy days, 
 Nor beckon to him there. 
 
 336 Away with care, arise 
 And sing a jolly song, 
 Now while the sunny skies 
 Float their white ships along. 
 Accept the gifts that Heaven 
 Doth offer day by day, 
 For sparingly is given 
 The blooms that fade away. 
 
Omar 
 
 337 When I do dream I see 
 The fields of paradise, 
 Earth from her winter free, \£>£? 
 And naught but summer skies. fftm/t 
 Oh, happy sleep, if thou BUTHj 
 Couldst delegate thy power, 
 
 The woes that haunt me now 
 Were roses in an hour. 
 
 338 Fear not to follow, Sweet, 
 Where Beauty leads the way; 
 Her fairy-sandaled feet 
 Seek but the heights of day. 
 Her voice is Israfel's, 
 
 Her eyes are kin to stars, 
 And her bright passing tells 
 The legend of no wars. 
 
 339 Through love of tawdry things 
 Our reason is no more; 
 Content has taken wings 
 And Honor barred his door. 
 Ye Gods ! we are but earth, 
 Fine dust before our time; 
 And what the soul is worth 
 
 I venture not in rhyme. 
 
 340 Oh, Flagon, friend of mine, 
 Whose cheeks are like the rose, 
 Ambassador of Wine 
 
 And soother of our woes, 
 What better friend hath man, 
 As thou dost swiftly run 
 To lift the heavy ban 
 Of grief, and pour the sun! 
 
eun<$ 
 
 (f}tlWl!* Cup-bearer, those that hence 
 „ Have gone are lapped in dust, 
 
 (JvC/ The wise, the poor of sense, 
 
 The unjust and the just, 
 The unkind and the kind; 
 All sleep as equals now; 
 The words they spake — the wind 
 That stirs this leafy bough. 
 
 342 Upon us Thou hast set 
 A seal we may not read; 
 Thou takest in thy net, 
 Thou goadest us, indeed. 
 Since, Lord, thou madest me 
 A blinded worm of earth, 
 How can I better be 
 Than what I have of worth? 
 
 343 Beloved, this is wise: 
 To lighten loads of men 
 And set before their eyes 
 The feasts of love again; 
 To smooth the path, to give, 
 To share what we call ours; 
 To bid the fainting live 
 Not on the thorns, but flowers. 
 
 344 Art Thou not Lord of All? 
 And am I not Thy slave? 
 Who sins if I do fall? 
 Who gains if Thou dost save? 
 The living and the dead 
 Are subject to Thy will; 
 And what have I to dread, 
 Thy helpless subject still? 
 
345 Offspring of whirling Chance, (f^tttAt* 
 Think not that thou canst learn rl 
 The maze of Circumstance — d>C/ 
 The dead no more return. ffutt ft 
 Therefore, I say, serene, -J 
 And with a fearless heart, 
 
 Live well in thy demesne 
 And like a king depart. 
 
 346 O Thou ! hidden to man, 
 Yet in thy works displayed, 
 Say, who may know thy plan ? 
 The Maker not the made. 
 Alone Thou art of truth 
 Spectator and the play, 
 
 We but the motes, forsooth, 
 That drift across Thy day. 
 
 347 If famous, you're maligned, 
 And praise to bitter turns; 
 Secluded dwell, you'll find 
 The act suspicion earns. 
 The middle course is best 
 For prophet or for saint; 
 Who follows it may rest, 
 Perchance, without a taint. 
 
 348 To lighten one sad heart 
 Is better than much fame 
 Blown from the heights of Art — 
 And bears a sweeter name. 
 With charity to bind 
 
 Thy former foe to thee 
 Is more than heroes find 
 In kingdoms they set free, 
 m 
 
&matr 
 
 0Utt<$ 
 
 Lo! from the startled tower 
 The loud muezzin floats; 
 C/ Awake, it is the hour 
 
 To cheer our thirsty throats. 
 Oh, babble not a prayer, 
 The Heavens are weary grown; 
 But grasp the goblet there 
 And make its soul thine own. 
 
 3 50 If I of Mirth am friend 
 And revel at his side, 
 Oh, blame me not, the end 
 Is soon, and earth shall hide. 
 Since there is peace in joy, 
 To lesser things farewell; 
 When happiness doth cloy 
 'Tis time with Gloom to dwell. 
 
 351 Upon this strutted stage 
 How friendship bites the dust; 
 Priests, Kings — they have their wage, 
 And Virtue turns to Lust. 
 Beware! Grieve not to find 
 Thy dearest friend thy foe 
 The rose that scents the wind 
 Hath her own thorn to show. 
 
 352 Oh who from this fair bower 
 With rose-o'erclambered roof, 
 And love to charm the hour, 
 Would long remain aloof? 
 Let others sing of mirth 
 In other kingdoms found; 
 Give me the joys of earth, 
 While I to earth am bound. 
 
353 A hermit once I saw d^ttt/lt* 
 
 In a vast wilderness; 
 
 Nor god, nor creed, nor law, \£*l' 
 
 Nor wealth, nor yet distress, ffUttd" 
 
 Nor learning had the man. -J 
 
 What courage like to this, 
 
 That, mapping out its plan, 
 
 Asks not, hopes not, for bliss? 
 
 354 And wouldst thou at thy feet 
 Have this old world, my friend? 
 Oh, scorn it, and retreat, 
 Unto the very end, 
 
 Into thyself; and lo! 
 Thou art a sage divine; 
 But mix with it — and know 
 It makes thee but as swine. 
 
 355 'Tis well among our kind 
 To merit their esteem, 
 And ill it is to blind 
 Ourselves to nature's Scheme. 
 But better far is this: 
 
 To be far gone in wine 
 Than with a traitor's kiss 
 Betray the Thought Divine. 
 
 356 Oh, from this whirl let me 
 But for a moment pass, 
 That I myself may be. 
 What dreams are in the glass! 
 What paradise looks down 
 With fond inviting gaze! 
 And shall I seek the crown 
 Or go my happy ways? 
 
6UYl$ 
 
 AVjl>tf Bring hither wine, the juice 
 nr% That, like a blossom chain, 
 
 (JvC/ Ensnares with ruddy noose 
 
 King, clown and hardy swain. 
 
 One of the three am I 
 
 And two am surely not; 
 
 Or this or that, to die 
 
 Is but to be forgot. 
 
 358 The Wheel of Heaven turns 
 And lo! What things are we: 
 Or lowly jars, or urns 
 Of aristocracy. 
 It matters not, my Dear, 
 What service we may do, 
 If while our souls are here 
 They still contain the true. 
 
 359 Weary us not with care 
 When pleasure knocks without; 
 Enough, and yet to spare 
 Is there of grief about. 
 But Happiness this way 
 Comes not when we command, 
 And any time she may 
 Forsake her native land. 
 
 360 Last night a long-lost Hope 
 Again came back to me 
 And said: "Thy portal ope 
 And let me dwell with thee." 
 "Not so," I said; "awake 
 No dream I may not win." 
 She said: "For my love's sake." 
 I rose and let her in. 
 
0Utt<$ 
 
 361 Through dusky fields I went (fVftAl* 
 With Beauty at my side, „ 
 When lo! the firmament \}M/ 
 Grew sweetly glorified, 
 A light from her did spring 
 That scared the night away, 
 And birds began to sing 
 Believing it was day. 
 
 362 Yea, one by one they go, 
 The foolish and the wise; 
 Disdain the cup of woe 
 And let the sweet arise. 
 Spill all these cups of tears 
 And fill them with a laugh, 
 And bid the flying years 
 The brighter nectar quarT. 
 
 363 When our two souls no more 
 Inhabit frames of clay, 
 Earth, throwing wide her door, 
 Shall hide the wreck away; 
 And we shall sleep as one 
 That were before as two — 
 When this sad race is run 
 That keeps my soul from you. 
 
 364 That palace of our state, 
 Once reared to heaven high, 
 Wherein proud monarchs sate, 
 In ruins now doth lie. 
 And lo! we saw the dove 
 In sole possession there, 
 And heard the pile above 
 Her plaintive, "Where? Where?" 
 
0un<j 
 
 (f^tttA!? ^° ^ on & as Beauty reigns 
 nn And truth her kingdom is, 
 
 ^|vC/ Oh give thy heart no pains, 
 
 Nor seek a higher bliss, 
 'Tis wiser far to love 
 The fair sweet face of her 
 Who loves, than be, above, 
 A peri's worshiper. 
 
 366 Devoid of hope and mirth, 
 My heart has grown to be 
 But ashes on the hearth 
 Of this old hostelry. 
 My dreams — bright guests — are gone 
 Gay laughter rings no more, 
 And in the rosy dawn 
 There creaks a ruined door. 
 
 367 Say, who will buy this earth? 
 Two barleycorns will take it; 
 If you have one of worth, 
 Then only one Til make it. 
 Bring wine; this life is vain 
 Without the ring of laughter; 
 There is no sense in pain, 
 Here nor in hereafter. 
 
 368 Oh, cold are Wisdom's halls, 
 No laugh is rippled there, 
 And there the footstep falls 
 With heaviness and care. 
 Give me the haunts of Love, 
 Where Beauty walks divine, 
 And, singing through the grove, 
 A fountain — and some wine. 
 
369 The life that in us dwells (ftttt/11* 
 Bids our strong spirits soar Tjf 
 
 To where that fountain wells \J*£' 
 
 Which sings for evermore. ftUYkfr 
 
 Alas ! one draught we sip -J 
 
 And lo! to earth we fall; 
 Joy bitters on the lip 
 And darkness shadows all. 
 
 370 Now nightingales rejoice 
 And roses scent the air, 
 And, lo! the fountain's voice 
 Is laughing everywhere. 
 What time have we to ope 
 The musty Koran, Sweet, 
 When nature, full of hope, 
 Flings lyrics at our feet? 
 
 371 The mantle of this earth 
 I cannot put aside, 
 
 Nor in the guise of mirth 
 Mine ancient sorrow hide. 
 Master am I of nought 
 In this great school of Care; 
 Though graduate in thought, 
 Still pupil of Despair. 
 
 372 To you this mortal cell 
 Is an immortal's inn, 
 Where for a time doth dwell 
 What heaven soon shall win. 
 Think not the Judas-tree 
 Brings forth the jasmine bud, 
 Nor that clear water be 
 
 The grape's delightful blood. 
 

 eun<$ 
 
 Just truth and beauty — these, 
 Around this world of ours, 
 Fill all our treasuries 
 With amaranthine flowers. 
 Let prophets old, and seers, 
 Their dogmas wild maintain; 
 When they are gone, the years 
 Still fragrant shall remain. 
 
 374 Oh thou who hast not seen 
 The friends of youth depart, 
 Whose every path is green 
 With spring's unstudied art, 
 In days to come, vex not 
 Thy soul at Fate's decrees, 
 Be brave, content with what 
 The winter shall not seize. 
 
 375 Be kind, O friend to all, 
 
 And Khayyam's wisdom learn; 
 Leave bitter fruit to fall 
 And to the sweet return. 
 Pluck roses and then weave 
 Into a garland bright; 
 Let rue and nightshade grieve 
 With nightingales and night. 
 
 376 Were all earth's treasures thine, 
 O Mullah, what avail, 
 
 When at the last the sign 
 Of death makes thee grow pale? 
 How foolish, then, thy heed 
 To gather more and more, 
 When nothing shalt thou need 
 Of all thy bubble store. 
 
mnc$ 
 
 2JJ Think not the fleeting hour (fowtAY 
 
 Should all unheeded die; CD 
 
 Oh, like the blooming flower \Jv£' 
 
 Pass not its beauty by. 
 The bud that is unborn, 
 The blossom that is past — 
 They are not ours; the morn 
 That breaks, oh hold it fast. 
 
 378 Had I the heaven's making, 
 From this gray earth I'd banish 
 All sorrow and the aching, 
 And dreams that only vanish. 
 New heavens I would fashion 
 As bright as they were spacious, 
 Where man, devoid of passion, 
 Were free as I were gracious. 
 
 379 Each day at dawn I haste 
 Unto the house of wine, 
 With boon companions taste 
 The wisdom of the vine. 
 
 Thou who hast the key 
 To all that life doth hide: 
 Griefs flagon — why so freeP 
 Joy's cup — why so denied? 
 
 380 Thanks to the crafty Sun, 
 And thanks to fleeting Time, 
 Old earth at last has won 
 The glory of my prime. 
 Caverns these cheeks for tears, 
 This heart a cup for grief; 
 
 1 only ask the years 
 To make my sojourn brief. 
 n 
 
b\m$ 
 
 &}\\l&t Astronomers point out 
 „ A Bull among the stars; 
 
 \JvCz Some say, without a doubt, 
 
 He draweth Heaven's cars. 
 Who doubts (oh, they are few) 
 A bull this planet gray 
 Upholds? Between the two, 
 Ye gods! what asses bray. 
 
 382 Behold, the full moon rises; 
 Bring music and bring wine; 
 With all your sweet devices, 
 Come, herald the divine. 
 Lo, beauty swift advances! 
 Talk not of earth to us; 
 In her immortal glances 
 Woe grows ridiculous. 
 
 3 83 Oh, vainly for the fair 
 
 And vainly for the sweet, 
 We spread the spirit's snare; 
 And both are short and fleet. 
 'Tis only that which we 
 May have we scorn to hold; 
 The dross of life is free, 
 Unworth the gain the gold. 
 
 3 84 Who gave the right to thee 
 To cast at me the stone? 
 I am, and therefore free 
 To walk my path alone, 
 Believing what seems true, 
 Rejecting, holding fast, 
 So long as what I do 
 Harms no one to the last. 
 
385 Take wealth away, but leave &}mAt 
 A right good friend to me, m 
 And I no more will grieve \J*t' 
 Than any rose you see. attM/t 
 But rob me of his heart * UT, 3 
 And make me Heaven's heir, 
 
 And I would scorn the part 
 And only suffer there. 
 
 386 So deep of Beauty's wine 
 My soul would drink that I 
 So nearly were divine 
 
 That those who happened by 
 Should, seeing me, exclaim: 
 "O Beauty! is it thou?" 
 Alas! her golden fame 
 I only darken now. 
 
 3 87 Before the cup you drain 
 That brings eternal sleep, 
 Fill all your bins with gain 
 And all your measures heap 
 For in the realm of rest 
 (As all this toil foretells) 
 The rich alone are blest, 
 The poor alone are hell's. 
 
 388 While time and earth are ours, 
 Come, dearest, let us love; 
 The dew is on the flowers, 
 And mating is the dove. 
 The cup awaits us, Sweet, 
 Oh let us drain it now; 
 Again we may not meet, 
 Or, meeting, care not how. 
 
0Utt<$ 
 
 ^a*A« Behold, the cup is bright 
 „ With liquid rubies, Dear; 
 
 (JyC/ Oh let their dancing light 
 
 Thy melancholy cheer. 
 Give me the blazing bowl 
 That I with grief may cope, 
 And show unto my soul 
 The rising star of hope. 
 
 390 While in this house you live 
 Dream not of paradise, 
 But what the worth doth give 
 Enjoy before it flies. 
 Yield not to any foe 
 Though mighty Rustum he, 
 Nor bond for any go 
 Should Hatim ask of thee. 
 
 391 Wouldst thou that Happiness 
 Thy boon companion prove, 
 Pursue the highway less 
 And seek the lanes of love. 
 Thatched cottages are hers, 
 Field, wood and firmament, 
 And her blest worshipers, 
 Simplicity, Content. 
 
 392 Farewell to good and ill; 
 The miser has no brother; 
 The heart is dead and chill 
 That beats not for another. 
 What though the heavens fall 
 And half the race thereafter? 
 Saved Greed his gold, 'twere well; 
 The wreck were but his laughter. 
 
393 I saw a potter gray (DlttM 
 Bend busy o'er his wheel, nfl% 
 And in the well-mixed clay \K£' 
 Beheld what years reveal: KXLYttT 
 
 I saw the heads of kings -J 
 
 With feet of beggars there, 
 And Glory's golden wings 
 Bedraggled by Despair. 
 
 394 O youth! sweet health is thine; 
 What needest thou of more? 
 No monarch more divine 
 Will ever fill thy door. 
 
 The while he is thy guest 
 Bethink thee not of care; 
 His favors are the best 
 That any soul may share. 
 
 395 I broke against a stone 
 An earthen jar of mine, 
 When with a feeble moan 
 
 The fragments formed this line: 
 
 "Once I was like to thee, 
 
 In ages long ago; 
 
 Soon broken thou shalt be, 
 
 And formless lie as low." 
 
 396 From me to Khayyam go 
 And bear my greeting kind, 
 And say: O bard, they sow 
 But roses on the wind 
 
 If they who drink are wise; 
 But if the foolish drink, 
 They nettles sow that rise 
 Again where least they think. 
 
6\m$ 
 
 (ftttlAI* ^^ comes and goes my breath 
 
 And keeps my life in me, 
 
 (JvC/ While round about stalks Death, 
 
 From whom I cannot flee. 
 The flagon there is low 
 In that which entertains, 
 Yet who doth ever know 
 How much of life remains? 
 
 398 In some fair garden-place 
 On roses to recline, 
 And thou, with sunny face, 
 To pour the rosy wine — 
 Oh, many sultans great 
 Such joy cannot command; 
 Love laughs at bubble state, 
 Nor kisses back his hand. 
 
 399 Be not too fond of Folly, 
 Nor merely Knowledge woo, 
 Since dusky Melancholy 
 Is comrade of the two. 
 The three are pleasant neighbors 
 When kept where they should be, 
 And each can sweeten labors 
 If sought judiciously. 
 
 400 Lo! in Love's assemblage 
 Equality doth reign; 
 The beggar, king and page 
 Alike his favor gain. 
 And one and all may feast; 
 The cup of love is free, 
 And only he is least 
 That's least in sympathy. 
 
euttg 
 
 401 Thou hast shorn with thy sword (ftm/tf 
 All my branches of light, ry ^ 
 Thou hast broken me, Lord vK^' 
 In the press of thy might. 
 Thou hast given my wine 
 To the lips of the earth, 
 And the hope of the Vine — 
 Say, what is it worth? 
 
 402 What empire, Sweet, is this: 
 Enough of sparkling wine, 
 A cup of which is bliss, 
 And two, perchance, divine. 
 The realm of Feridoun, 
 The crown of Kai-Khosru — 
 What are they to the noon 
 Of life, red wine and you? 
 
 403 The season now is here 
 Of rose and nightingale; 
 Close thou the koran, dear, 
 For spring's delightful tale. 
 My book is laughing eyes 
 And cheeks of tulip flame, 
 Wherein my heaven lies 
 And Love inscribes his name. 
 
 404 To Mustapha, the wise, 
 My kindly greetings give, 
 And ask what virtue lies 
 In solemnness to live; 
 Why Alkoran doth frown 
 On laughter-loving wine, 
 And offers them a crown 
 That on the bitter dine. 
 
0Utt<$ 
 
 dTSftiflY ®^ tnou wno niakest day 
 „ Swart servant of thy gain, 
 
 (JvC/ And turnest night away 
 
 With her dream-laden train, 
 A time shall come to thee 
 When for one little hour 
 Thou wouldst forego the fee 
 Of all thy golden power. 
 
 406 Our altar is the jar, 
 Our oracle the wine, 
 And may the day be far 
 That rears another shrine. 
 What prayers to make we know, 
 And, asking, we receive, 
 While those to mosque that go 
 Gain but the right to grieve. 
 
 407 Give me my dreams to-day, 
 To-morrow what you will; 
 I cannot throw away 
 The hope that haunts me still. 
 I would not give the flower 
 That blossoms now for me, 
 For any promised bower 
 That may, or may not, be. 
 
 408 The brown bird tells his tale, 
 And blooming is the rose, 
 And through the leafy vale 
 A spicy odor goes. 
 The world forgets its grief, 
 And I will mine forget, 
 To laugh with bird and leaf 
 And banish old Regret. 
 
409 We are the sometime keys (Dttt At* 
 Of life's great instrument, rn 
 Whereby Time's melodies \£&' 
 Through all the years are sent. ftUYkCr 
 Touched by some hand divine, -J 
 We voice what note He wills, 
 
 Till, lost in ether fine, 
 Alone the silence thrills. 
 
 410 If in the month of fast 
 Unto my cup I cling, 
 'Tis not I deem that past 
 Which can no pleasure bring, 
 But that the thought of loss 
 So turns my day to night, 
 
 I cannot buy the dross 
 And sell the old delight. 
 
 411 I searched the golden pages 
 Of love's immortal book, 
 And from the sage of sages 
 This legend old I took: 
 "As happy as a god 
 
 Is he that loveth beauty, 
 And, bounden to the sod, 
 Is also bound to duty." 
 
 412 I looked into the past 
 And of the future thought 
 Throughout the world I cast 
 The net of Wisdom wrought, 
 Yet found but mortals two — 
 The one a nothing small, 
 The other born to do 
 
 A noble work for all. 
 
0un<j 
 
 ftSftXCLt Tranquillity, O friend, 
 fV% Should thy good motto be; 
 
 ^vC/ Think not upon the end, 
 
 Nor of eternity. 
 
 What thou hast done or thought 
 Is but an atom's vaunt — 
 Too small, where stars are wrought, 
 For merit or for taunt. 
 
 414 Hail! Hail! to the green earth, 
 The green, green trees above, 
 And with as bright a mirth, 
 Hail to as bright a love! 
 Hail! Hail! the youthful dream, 
 And hail the sparkling eye, 
 Until by this glad stream 
 Beneath the grass we lie. 
 
 415 Quintessence of the sum 
 Of all created things, 
 Think not what woes shall come 
 With their loud-flapping wings. 
 One cup from Saki quaff — 
 From Saki the divine — 
 And thou canst give the laugh 
 To ages, in his wine. 
 
 416 Awake, awake! my Flower, 
 And sip the wine of morn, 
 The Day is in his bower 
 And I alone forlorn. 
 Come forth, come forth, and be 
 The bloom of blooms, my rose, 
 That time, beholding thee, 
 Forget his mighty woes. 
 
0Utt<$ 
 
 417 Within the Book of Life ftttt&t 
 Joy, sorrow, weal and woe ry ^ 
 Make all the chapters rife \J*£' 
 With ever-changing flow. 
 What boots it where we read, 
 Or what the end may be? 
 With every rose a weed 
 Holds joint supremacy. 
 
 418 The constant babbling cease 
 That of the koran tells, 
 Give me a little peace — 
 The rose that with me dwells; 
 She troubles not her wit 
 With any thought of grief, 
 Since "Paradise" is writ 
 On every fragrant leaf. 
 
 419 Why croweth chanticleer 
 At dawning of the day? 
 To tell you that more dear, 
 Dear dreams are slipped away; 
 That time is on the wing, 
 And that another morn 
 Still finds you but a thing 
 For laughter and for scorn. 
 
 420 Old earth is full of sorrow, 
 And we that from it spring 
 Thrive but to-day; to-morrow 
 Are but a withered thing. 
 The wind that sweetly kisses 
 The fragrant rose to-day, 
 The morrow never misses 
 To whirl in scorn away. 
 
&mar 
 
 So sodden we are grown 
 Thy counsels cheer us not, 
 £/ And in our grief alone 
 
 Sin scarcely is forgot. 
 Upon ourselves we feed 
 In every crumb we eat, 
 Since paying Thee no heed 
 We cast away the sweet. 
 
 422 Absorb me, Lord, in Thee, 
 As Thou art my good friend; 
 Me from myself set free 
 And all my riddles end. 
 Let good and evil cease 
 In this poor heart of mine, 
 And in the Central Peace 
 Let me be wholly Thine. 
 
 423 For this my captive heart 
 Have mercy, Lord, I pray, 
 And mercy for the part 
 In this vain farce I play; 
 Yea, mercy for the lips 
 That love the ruby bowl, 
 And for the foot that slips, 
 And for the wayward soul. 
 
 424 I am what Fate decreed; 
 A hundred years of time 
 Have richly met my need, 
 As rhyme doth mate with rhyme. 
 Might I but live an age 
 And henceforth only sin, 
 Thy love could cleanse the page, 
 Thy pity fold me in. 
 
 
425 Say, who hath never sinned? (fttftAl* 
 And who can sin oppose? 71 
 
 Do straws, when comes the wind, v|v£? 
 Bend not the way it goes? 0unCf 
 
 If, therefore, thou dost curse -> 
 
 The little fault in me, 
 Is curse or curser worse? 
 Since all doth come from Thee. 
 
 426 Justice — the soul of earth; 
 Our senses — angels bright, 
 And the whole sum of worth — 
 Humanity and Right. 
 
 This is the mighty One, 
 And this the endless Light; 
 That not in unison 
 Is nothingness and night. 
 
 427 Unworth a barley-corn 
 Are all the cares of time, 
 Behold, from morn to morn 
 We sing a merry rhyme. 
 Enough have we — content; 
 The woods, the fields, the hills, 
 The starry firmament, 
 
 And freedom of our wills. 
 
 428 My poor heart drowned in love, 
 Alas! no more may rise 
 
 To be the sharer of 
 
 Hope's ancient paradise; 
 
 But when Love's wine is poured, 
 
 In each red cup I see 
 
 The guests about the board 
 
 Quaff off the blood of me. 
 
0un<j 
 
 (rttttdtf ^ ess wme t ^ ie y ^d me drink 
 „ Who know me not too well; 
 
 \J\t' When I refuse, they think 
 
 Me maddened unto hell. 
 So let them think; my wine 
 Is my beloved's face, 
 Whose smiles and wiles divine 
 The world cannot displace. 
 
 430 O thou whose lips are wet 
 With life's sweet morning dew, 
 I pray thee not forget 
 To kiss my cup of rue; 
 Which if thou dost, believe, 
 I'll drain the cup with bliss, 
 And teach my heart to grieve 
 That I may taste the kiss. 
 
 43 1 Let us haste to the meads, 
 Let us rove by the streams; 
 Where the bright fancy leads, 
 Let us weave us our dreams. 
 Yea, the buds of this hour 
 Are the hopes of the past, 
 And to-morrow's fair flower 
 In the present is cast. 
 
 432 The brain is but an inn 
 Where many guests do come 
 And some our friendship win 
 And only hatred, some. 
 Now, for the genial guest 
 Be thou the genial host 
 And count that day the best 
 Wherein the mean is lost. 
 
433 Wound not the happy heart AtttAf 
 Nor any dream destroy, fV% 
 Since thou hast not the art, \Jv£' 
 At will, to fashion joy. ffUtt<t 
 Be bringer of glad news, 25 
 And to the hopeless kind — 
 
 The armorer of thews 
 That shall his sorrow bind. 
 
 434 Some travel with a creed 
 Upon a pleasant road, 
 Supplying every need 
 And easing every load 
 With faith; some hesitate 
 To take this path, forsooth, 
 When lo! the voice of Fate: 
 "In neither way is Truth." 
 
 435 Where are the lips we kissed, 
 The eyes as bright as dew? 
 How is it we have missed 
 The loving and the true? 
 Ah, that is turned to dust 
 Which was a peri's form; 
 And all the world is rust 
 And victual for the worm. 
 
 436 Companion of old Wrong, 
 Avoider of the right, 
 
 Yet lifting up thy song 
 To Him who is the Light, 
 Beware; the path is straight, 
 Nor is he more secure 
 Who, vauntful, seeks the Gate 
 Than he who shuns the pure. 
 
mn$ 
 
 (ftttUir Oh, just with Joy to dwell 
 „ In some delightful vale! 
 
 (JvC/ The saddest dream to tell 
 
 That of the nightingale; 
 With Love to pour the wine 
 And Beauty's eyes for light — 
 Forsooth, with thee and thine, 
 To be the king of night. 
 
 438 This heaven-arching dome 
 Commands the wise man's awe, 
 While those who stagger home 
 Know neither hope nor law. 
 The cup and jar know not 
 The spirit they contain; 
 They merely squander what 
 It was no toil to gain. 
 
 439 A drop from ocean tossed 
 Lamented its sad fate, 
 To be an exile lost 
 To every crystal mate. 
 The great old Ocean spake: 
 " Still thy art one with me, 
 Since All but One doth make, 
 And I am part of thee." 
 
 440 Is there no place to rest, 
 No path that leads thereto? 
 Yea, in the earth's great breast 
 Is peace for me and you. 
 Oh, that in after years, 
 When we must live again, 
 That we come forth as spears 
 Of grass, and not as men. 
 
mn§ 
 
 441 Oh, not for this old earth dDtttdf 
 Let any tear be shed, ^ 
 
 But steep your soul in mirth \J>^' 
 
 And count it dross instead; 
 
 For what is gain of it 
 
 But loss of all that's true? 
 
 The blossom has more wit, 
 
 And scorns what misers do. 
 
 442 Friend, know thyself; and say 
 What hither didst thou bring. 
 What canst thou take away 
 Of gold or anything? 
 Thou wouldst not take thy woe. 
 Then happy be while here; 
 Or grief, or joy, we know 
 The end is but the bier. 
 
 443 Let not the world oppress, 
 Nor vex thy soul with thought 
 That they are nothingness 
 Who once at thy wheel wrought. 
 To beauty freely give 
 The best that life can claim, 
 That they who later live 
 Look high to read thy name. 
 
 444 That hour wherein we drink 
 Of beauty and of truth 
 We stand upon the brink 
 Of everlasting youth. 
 Age cannot dim the soul 
 Whose flight from morn to morn 
 Is toward that lofty goal 
 Where love and light are born. 
 
 P 
 
&Swk/\f This laughing fountain here 
 jyi That sparkles in the sun, 
 
 \i\t/ Like our two spirits, Dear, 
 
 KMYlCX With song is never done. 
 
 -5 These dazzling moments, Love, 
 
 Though born of time and earth, 
 Catch brightness from above 
 And flood the hour with mirth. 
 
 446 Fate this to me doth give: 
 Sad night and sadder day; 
 Near thee I may not live — 
 I cannot live away. 
 
 Oh, sorrow all too great, 
 Oh, lot too hard to bear, 
 Oh, cruel, cruel fate, 
 And oh, this passion fair! 
 
 447 If thou wouldst draw a veil 
 About the heart that's free, 
 Or shroud with gloom the hale 
 Bright face of Liberty, 
 
 Go mourn thy wisdom lost, 
 And in the lairs of men 
 Move with thy forehead crossed 
 With "Fool," and "Fool" again, 
 
 448 I would that earth again 
 Were builded and I there 
 With power to succor men 
 And make their pathways fair; 
 Or, failing this, to blot 
 From life the mind of me, 
 To be unknown, forgot — 
 Or else be loved by thee. 
 
449 Some good red wine give me, d^m/IV 
 A book of verses bright, X* 
 
 A loaf of bread to fee QPU$ 
 
 The grosser appetite, tf IMfr 
 
 And thou to love me, Sweet, o""JJ 
 
 All in a garden fair, — 
 Gods knowing my retreat 
 Would center heaven there! 
 
 450 Truth hath no need to fear; 
 She hunteth not belief, 
 She flghteth with no spear, 
 She bindeth up no sheaf; 
 Yet all before her throne 
 (Which no rude hand can shake) 
 At last her prowess own, 
 
 And love her for her sake. 
 
 45 1 If sorrow thou wouldst flee, 
 Press to thy brows her crown; 
 Resign thyself, and she 
 Will half forget to frown. 
 
 And wouldst thou taste the wine 
 Of earth's supremest wealth, 
 Thank heaven thou dost dine 
 With Honor and with Health. 
 
 452 The roses are in blossom; 
 Bring wine and quit your sighs; 
 Come, fill your gloomy bosom 
 With balm of paradise. 
 
 Be happy — not tomorrow — 
 Be happy, Sweet, today, 
 Before the grip of Sorrow 
 Snatch life itself away. 
 
eun<$ 
 
 fttH&tf ^ e hypocrite no more; 
 „ Delight in love and song, 
 
 v|vC/ And shut the solid door 
 
 On Grief and all her throng. 
 Mohammed's laws be thine, 
 But when our Ali pours 
 Accept his proffered wine 
 And bless what Joy adores. 
 
 454 The world to those who love it 
 Is nothing more than loss; 
 To those who look above it 
 'Tis something more than dross. 
 Then why upon the bubble 
 So fondly gaze, my friend, 
 And fill thy days with trouble 
 For what in smoke doth end? 
 
 455 O Thou, Essence Unknown, 
 To whom my soul is blind, 
 To whom my heart is stone, 
 Groping, I something find 
 That bids me hope and trust 
 This darkness yet may rise; 
 That Thou art good and just; 
 Hell less than paradise. 
 
 456 Now while the fountains sing 
 And every bird is gay, 
 Vex not the mirth of spring 
 Nor chide her roundelay; 
 A breath of stormy wind 
 
 1 Shall hurl thy roses far, 
 And autumn surely find 
 How many thorns there are. 
 
457 If Thou didst make me I, d^tttA? 
 
 An Individual Soul, ^ 
 
 Why wouldst Thou let me die \J>£' 
 
 Into the mighty Whole? ft lift ft 
 
 If purposing to slay, -3 
 
 Why broughtest Thou me here, 
 To strut my little day 
 And then to disappear? 
 
 458 Why dost Thou threaten me? 
 Am I worth more in fear 
 Than in the liberty 
 
 Of Reason's golden sphere? 
 Say, what were paradise 
 If man be thus undone? 
 A region where the wise 
 Are lacking, barring none. 
 
 459 Oh, heart, if thou wert dumb 
 To many-headed Sin, 
 
 Pure Soul wouldst thou become, 
 And hope's high vantage win. 
 Then what a shame and loss, 
 With Beauty, oh, so near, 
 In this vile house of dross 
 To long have sojourn here. 
 
 460 O Potter! cometh soon 
 Thy busy wheel unto 
 The head of Feridoun, 
 The hand of Kai-Krossu. 
 Beware! Degrade no more 
 The helpless clay of men, 
 Nor count amongst thy store 
 That which may live again. 
 
bmat 
 
 ® 
 
 If life hath been a feast, 
 What then hast thou to show, 
 ti When this, thy mansion leased, 
 
 Falls to the flood below? 
 If thou hast lived an age, 
 And live an age remote, 
 Time blots thy little page 
 And laughs at what he wrote. 
 
 462 And canst thou tell me, Sweet, 
 Why cypress-tree and rose 
 Such fair renown do meet, 
 And neither any foes? 
 With many hands the tree 
 Doth bless our silent tombs, 
 With lips that fragrant be 
 The rose doth kiss the glooms. 
 
 463 Lo! the zephyr of eve 
 Wafts the scent of the rose, 
 And the nightingales grieve 
 Wheresoever it goes. 
 And the soul of the flower, 
 Through the heart of the bird, 
 Re-impassions the Power 
 As the fragrance is heard! 
 
 464 Alas ! for Summer has flown, 
 Alas, this leafless tree; 
 Alas, that I have grown 
 The laugh of time to be. 
 The sum of joy I sought, 
 The melody of spring; 
 Alas, I little thought 
 How death shrouds everything. 
 
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 465 With this or that how long <f)tft&£ 
 Shall we disturb our wit — _- 
 
 If life be but a song \J>£' 
 
 Or just a dream T>f it? 
 
 The breath I now breathe in, 
 
 Perchance, I breathe not out. 
 
 Bring wine! I'll not begin 
 
 To question joy with doubt. 
 
 466 In this proud house of life 
 Drink deep, philosopher, 
 Of the strong wine of strife 
 And be Love's worshipper; 
 And wheresoe'er thy dust 
 Through this wild world may blow, 
 There strength shall spring and trust 
 And every virtue grow. 
 
Here endeth OMAR RESUNG, being 
 verses by Charles G. Blanden, after the 
 prose translation of the R UB AIT AT of 
 Omar Khayyam, as set forth by Justin 
 Huntly McCarthy, M. P. The cover, 
 title page and end papers were designed 
 by Frank B.Rae, Jr. The whole being 
 printed and sold by Langworthy & Stev- 
 ens at the House of the Blue Sky Press, 
 4732 Kenwood Avenue in Chicago, Illi- 
 nois. Done in September, MCMI. 
 
 4 b AG Q7 
 

 
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