When the blue horizon's hoop Me a little pinches here, Instant to my grave I stoop, And go to find thee in the sphere. EPITAPH. Bethink, poor heart, what bitter kind of jest Mad Destiny this tender stripling played; For a warm breast of maiden to his breast, She laid a slab of marble on his head. They say, through patience, chalk Becomes a ruby stone; Ah, yes! but by the true heart's blood The chalk is crimson grown. FRIENDSHIP. Thou foolish Hafiz! Say, do churls Know the worth of Oman's pearls? Give the gem which dims the moon To the noblest, or to none. * * * * * Dearest, where thy shadow falls, Beauty sits, and Music calls; Where thy form and favour come, All good creatures have their home. * * * * * On prince or bride no diamond stone Half so gracious ever shone, As the light of enterprise Beaming from a young man's eyes. FROM OMAR CHIAM. Each spot where tulips prank their state Has drunk the life-blood of the great; The violets yon field which stain Are moles of beauties time hath slain. * * * * * He who has a thousand friends has not a friend to spare, And he who has one enemy will meet him everywhere. * * * * * On two days it steads not to run from thy grave, The appointed, and the unappointed day; On the first, neither balm nor physician can save, Nor thee, on the second, the Universe slay. FROM IBN JEMIN. Two things thou shalt not long for, if thou love a mind serene;-- A woman to thy wife, though she were a crowned queen; And the second, borrowed money,--though the smiling lender say, That he will not demand the debt until the Judgment Day. THE FLUTE. FROM HILALI. Hark what, now loud, now low, the pining flute complains, Without tongue, yellow-cheeked, full of winds that wail and sigh; Saying, Sweetheart! the old mystery remains,-- If I am I; thou, thou; or thou art I? TO THE SHAH. FROM HAFIZ. Thy foes to hunt, thy enviers to strike down, Poises Arcturus aloft morning and evening his spear. TO THE SHAH. FROM ENWERI. Not in their houses stand the stars, But o'er the pinnacles of thine! TO THE SHAH. FROM ENWERI. From thy worth and weight the stars gravitate, And the equipoise of heaven is thy house's equipoise. SONG OF SEID NIMETOLLAH OF KUHISTAN. [Among the religious customs of the dervishes is an astronomical dance, in which the dervish imitates the movements of the heavenly bodies, by spinning on his own axis, whilst at the same time he revolves round the Sheikh in the centre, representing the sun; and, as he spins, he sings the Song of Seid Nimetollah of Kuhistan.] Spin the ball! I reel, I burn, Nor head from foot can I discern, Nor my heart from love of mine, Nor the wine-cup from the wine. All my doing, all my leaving, Reaches not to my perceiving; Lost in whirling spheres I rove, And know only that I love.