231. L. Metre Ramal, No. 50. In line 3 the first syllable is short. See Bl., Prosody, p. 43. In this form the metre is like Horace's «_Miserarum est_,» etc. 232. To please the righteous life itself I sell, And, though they tread me down, never rebel; Men say, «Inform us what and where is hell?» Ill company will make this earth a hell. 232. C. L. A. I. Also ascribed to Hafiz. 233. The sun doth smite the roofs with Orient ray And, Khosrau like, his wine-red sheen display; Arise, and drink! the herald of the dawn Uplifts his voice, and cries, «Oh, drink to-day!» 233. C. L. A. I. J. 234. Comrades! when e'er you meet together here, Recall your friend to mind, and drop a tear; And when the circling wine-cups reach his seat, Pray turn one upside down his dust to cheer. 234. B. A variation of No. 205. 235. That grace and favour at the first, what meant it? That lavishing of joy and peace, what meant it? But now thy purpose is to grieve my heart; What did I do to cause this change? What meant it? 235. B. So Job, «He multiplieth my wounds without cause.» 236. These hypocrites who build on saintly show, Treating the body as the spirit's foe, If they will shut their mouths with lime, like jars, My jar of grape-juice I will then forego. 236. L. B. B. reads _arra_, of which I can make no sense. _Bar fark niham_, «I will put aside»; _bar fark_ (line 4), «on their mouths.» 237. Many have come, and run their eager race, Striving for pleasures, luxuries, or place, And quaffed their wine, and now all silent lie, Enfolded in their parent earth's embrace. 237. C. L. A. I. 238. Then, when the good reap fruits of labours past, My hapless lot with drunkards will be cast; If good, may I be numbered with the first, If bad, find grace and mercy with the last. 238. C. L. A. I. 239. Of happy turns of fortune take your fill, Seek pleasure's couch, or wine-cup, as you will; Allah regards not if you sin, or saint it, So take your pleasure, be it good or ill. 239. C. L. N. A. I. J. Alluding to the _Hadis_, «These are in heaven, and Allah regards not their sins, and those in hell, and Allah regards not their good works.» See _Gulshan i' Raz_, p. 55. 240. Heaven multiplies our sorrows day by day, And grants no joys it does not take away; If those unborn could know the ills we bear, What think you, would they rather come or stay? 240. C. L. N. A. I. J. This recalls Byron's «Stanzas for Music.» 241. Why ponder thus the future to foresee, And jade thy brain to vain perplexity? Cast off thy care, leave Allah's plans to him, He formed them all without consulting thee. 241. C. L. N. A. I. J. 242.