A little dust to overweep, And bitter memories to make The whole earth blasted for our sake. 'Sleep soft, beloved!' we sometimes say, But have no tune to charm away Sad dreams that through the eye-lids creep. But never doleful dream again Shall break the happy slumber when He giveth His beloved, sleep. O earth, so full of dreary noises! His dews drop mutely on the hill; Though on its slope men sow and reap. Or cloud is floated overhead, He giveth His beloved, sleep. Aye, men may wonder while they scan For me, my heart that erst did go That sees through tears the mummers leap, Who giveth His beloved, sleep. And, friends, dear friends,-when it shall be WAKE! For the Sun behind yon Eastern height Has chased the Session of the Stars from Night; And to the field of Heav'n ascending, strikes The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light. II Before the phantom of False morning died, III And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted-"Open then the Door! You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more." IV Now the New Year reviving old Desires, Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires. Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose, And Jamshýd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; VI And David's lips are lockt; but in divine VII Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring VIII Whether at Naishápúr or Babylon, Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, IX Morning a thousand Roses brings, you say; And this first Summer month that brings the Rose Shall take Jamshýd and Kaikobád away. X Well, let it take them! What have we to do Let Rustum cry "To Battle!" as he likes, XI With me along the strip of Herbage strown XII Here with a little Bread beneath the Bough, XIII Some for the Glories of This World; and some Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come; Ah, take the Cash, and let the Promise go, Nor heed the music of a distant Drum! XIV Were it not Folly, Spider-like to spin The Thread of present Life away to win What? for ourselves, who know not if we shall Breathe out the very Breath we now breathe in! XV Look to the blowing Rose about us—“Lo, XVI For those who husbanded the Golden grain, XVII The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, XVIII Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day, XIX They say the Lion and the Lizard keep XX The Palace that to Heav'n his pillars threw, I saw the solitary Ringdove there, And "Coo, coo, coo," she cried; and "Coo, coo, coo." XXI Ah, my Belovéd, fill the Cup that clears |