"Throne you on highmost stead, heart, ears and sight * Your wone's my heart; mine all's your dwelling-site: Sweeter than honey is your name a-lip, * Running, as 'neath my ribs runs vital sprite: For Love hath made me as a tooth-pick[FN#369] lean * And drowned in tears of sorrow and despight: Let me but see you in my sleep, belike * Shall clear my cheeks of tears that lovely sight." Then a fourth recited the following couplets, "Dumb is my tongue and scant my speech for thee * And Love the direst torture gars me dree: O thou full Moon, whose place is highest Heaven, * For thee but double pine and pain in me." And a fifth these,[FN#370] "I love a moon of comely shapely form * Whose slender waist hath title to complain: Whose lip-dews rival must and long-kept wine; * Whose heavy haunches haunt the minds of men: My heart each morning burns with pain and pine * And the night-talkers note I'm passion-slain; While down my cheeks carnelian-like the tears * Of rosy red shower down like railing rain." And a sixth the following, "O thou who shunnest him thy love misled! * O Branch of Bán, O star of highmost stead! To thee of pine and passion I complain, * O thou who fired me with cheeks rosy-red. Did e'er such lover lose his soul for thee, * Or from prostration and from prayers fled?" And a seventh these, "He seized my heart and freed my tears to flow * Brought strength to Love and bade my Patience go. His charms are sweet as bitter his disdain; * And shafts of love his suitors overthrow. Stint blame, O blamer, and for past repent * None will believe thee who dost Love unknow!" And on like wise all the rest of the monks shed tears and repeated verses. As for Danis, the Prior, weeping and wailing redoubled on him, for that he found no way to her enjoyment, and he chanted the following couplets[FN#371], "My patience failed me when my lover went * And fled that day mine aim and best intent. O Guide o' litters lead their camels fair, * Haply some day they'll deign with me to tent! On parting-day Sleep parted from my lids * And grew my grieving and my joy was shent. I moan to Allah what for Love I dree'd * My wasted body and my forces spent."