From the pleasure, joy, and rapture of this hour, In its frame to hold its soul earth scarce hath power. Rent its collar, like the dawning, hath the rose; From its heart the nightingale sighs forth its woes. Dance the juniper and cypress like the sphere; Filled with melody through joy all lands appear. Gently sing the running brooks in murmurs soft; While the birds with tuneful voices soar aloft. Play the green and tender branches with delight, And they shed with one accord gold, silver, bright. Like to couriers fleet, the zephyrs speed away, Resting ne’er a moment either night or day. In that raid the rosebud filled with gold its hoard, And the tulip with fresh musk its casket stored. There the moon a purse of silver coin did seize; Filled with ambergris its skirt the morning breeze; Won the sun a golden disk of ruby dye, And with glistening pearls its pocket filled the sky: Those who poor were fruit and foliage attained; All the people of the land some trophy gained. _Lāmi’ī_. ROSE TIME O heart, come, wail, as nightingale thy woes show; ’Tis Pleasure’s moment this, come, then, as rose blow. In burning notes make thou thy tuneful song rise; These iron hearts soft render with thy sad sighs. Within thy soul place not, like tulip, dark brand; When opportunity doth come, then firm stand. From earth take justice ere yet are these times left, And ere yet from the soul’s harp is breath’s song reft. They call thee--view the joys that sense would yield thee; But, ere thou canst say “Hie!” the bird is flown, see. Give ear, rose-like, because in truth the night-bird From break of dawn its bitter wail hath made heard. Their chorus all around the gleeful birds raise; The streamlets sing, the nightingale the flute plays. The jasmines with their fresh leaves tambourines ply; The streams, hard pressed, raise up their glistening foam high Of junipers and cypresses two ranks ’tween, The zephyr sports and dances o’er the flower-green. The streamlets ’midst the vineyard hide-and-seek play The flowerets with, among the verdant leaves gay. Away the morning’s breeze the jasmine’s crown tears, As pearls most costly scatters it the plucked hairs. The leader of the play’s the breeze of swift pace; Like children, each the other all the flowers chase. With green leaves dressed, the trees each other’s hands take; The flowers and nightingales each other’s robes shake. Like pigeon, there, before the gale that soft blows, Doth turn in many a somersault the young rose. As blaze up with gay flowerets all the red plains, The wind each passes, and the vineyard next gains. The clouds, pearl-raining, from the meteors sparks seize; And flowers are all around strewn by the dawn-breeze. The waters, eddying, in circles bright play,