He asserts his dignity as bard and inspired man of his people. To the Vizier returning from Mecca, he says, "Boast not rashly, prince of pilgrims, of thy fortune. Thou hast indeed seen the temple; but I, the Lord of the temple. Nor has any man inhaled from the musk-bladder of the merchant, or from the musky morning-wind, that sweet air which I am permitted to breathe every hour of the day." And with still more vigour in the following lines:— "Oft have I said, I say it once more, I, a wanderer, do not stray from myself, I am a kind of parrot; the mirror is holden to me; What the Eternal says, I stammering say again. Give me what you will; I eat thistles as roses, And according to my food I grow and I give. Scorn me not, but know I have the pearl, And am only seeking one to receive it." And his claim has been admitted from the first. The muleteers and camel-drivers, on their way through the desert, sing snatches of his songs, not so much for the thought, as for their joyful temper and tone; and the cultivated Persians know his poems by heart. Yet Hafiz does not appear to have set any great value on his songs, since his scholars collected them for the first time after his death. In the following poem the soul is figured as the Phœnix alighting on Tuba, the Tree of Life:— "My phœnix long ago secured His nest in the sky-vault's cope; In the body's cage immured, He was weary of life's hope. "Round and round this heap of ashes Now flies the bird amain, But in that odorous niche of heaven Nestles the bird again. "Once, flies he upwards, he will perch On Tuba's golden bough; His home is on that fruited arch Which cools the blest below. "If over this world of ours His wings my phœnix spread, How gracious falls on land and sea The soul-refreshing shade! "Either world inhabits he, See oft below him planets roll; His body is all of air compact, Of Allah's love his soul." Here is an ode which is said to be a favourite with all educated Persians:—