"All fields of thought are arid, No earthly soil is rich, By thirst of knowledge harried And those ambitions which The heart like Pharaoh's harden To let no impulse go. But every yard's a garden Through which we mystics flow. "I conjure hawthorn blossom From Bakhtiari vales-- As when one looks across some Choked channel where the sails Of anchored vessels jostle-- I tune their rhythmic sway In hollows where the throstle Is only dumb by day. "Red routs of rhododendron, That slope to Trebizond, Rapt round the garden's end run To mask the waste beyond. There facts are free to wonder Down pathways like the streak Of silver pavement under The palms of Basra creek. "In charity of jasmin My poor designs are clad, As nature cloaked the chasm in The ramparts of Baghdad, Where passed the fabled Caliph With Giafar by night To mystify the bailiff At Garden-of-Delight. "The orchard-grave of Omar, Neglected Nishapur, Where sprays of petaled foam are, Sighs through my garden-door With boughs round whose gnarled stem men Had never thought to twine Green tendrils from rich Yemen, The sunburnt Smyrniot vine. "Wild lilies, whose rich red owes Its undertone to brown, From Kurd-betented meadows Break out in every town. Blind alleys' bursts of lilac, Where russet warblers woo, Are set to cover my lack Of vocal retinue. "The myrtles of Damascus, The poppies of Shiraz, Have sent the breeze to ask us If they are dumb, because Wisdom and one that had her To wife still hug the fence, Where we have left a ladder To rescue men from sense." The cypress swayed. Hard by another voice Climbed the twin tree, and thus its theme began: "Young man, Shirín is out of date. We have to thank the West That Attar's latest is too late To waken Interest, And one of Love's great names, Majnûn, Is now generic for a loon. "Our crust is cooling, and the bent For culture bears its fruit, As we that weed out sentiment Likewise outgrow the brute; While Providence matures a blend That pure philosophers commend "In logic. Constancy declined Because we pruned our morals. Love practises the change of mind That ethics preach in quarrels...."