Many our needs, yet we spare prayers
Since thro' thy nature have we no need of praying
The Nature of my beloved is the world-showing mirror
Ah it has taught me that thy need is no need
Long time I endured the torments of the ship
Since the pearls are mine, what do I want of the sea
Beggar! the soul-squandering life of the beloved
Knows thy petition. She has no need of explanation
Prince of beauty, by God! I am burned up by love.
Ask me finally still, Have the beggars really need?
Thou importunate flee I have nothing to do with thee

The red rose blooms
The nightingale is drunken
Now leave free course to drinking
Ye reverencers of wine

The building of Sorrow it seemed so firm
Piled of granite gray
O see how the crystal glass
Has already shattered it & broke

Bring wine; before the Throne
Which hears our wishes
Drunkard & sage are one
And prince & groom

Since I must one day leave
This two-ported guest house
It is all one whether my lifes course
Be high or humble

It is not possible without sorrow
And without grief to live

Desire no bread, forsake the guest hall of the earth,
The earth is a host who murders his guests
Hafiz

Who royally bedded
On ermine lies
Knows not the stone pillow
Of the pilgrims thorn bed
Hafiz

Boy bring the bowl full of wine
Bring me two bowls of the purest wine
I take wine to be the love-potion
This stuff for old & young, bring
Sun & moon are the wine & the glass
In the midst of the moon bring me the sun
How the understanding strives so earnestly
Bring bands made of wine for the stupid head
Fan this dissolving glow,
That is, instead of water bring wine
Goes the rose by, say gladly:
Nectar of pearls & blood of the rose, bring.
Sounds not the nightingale it is right
Sound of glass & sound of wine, bring.

I have borne the anguish of love, which ask me not to describe:
I have tasted the poison of absence, which ask me not to relate.

Far through the world have I roved, and at length I have chosen
A sweet creature, a ravisher of hearts, whose name ask me not to disclose.

The flowings of my tears bedew her footsteps
In such a manner as ask me not to utter.

On yesterday night from her own mouth with my own ears I heard
Such words, as pray ask me not to repeat.

Why dost thou bite thy lip at me? What dost thou hint?

Coy Nature, (which remain'd, th├┤ aged grown,
A beauteous Virgin still, injoy'd by none,
Nor seen unveil'd by any one,)
When Harvey's violent passion she did see,
Began to tremble and to flee,
Took Sanctuary, like Daphne, in a Tree:
There Daphne's Lover stopt, and thought it much
The very Leaves of her to touch:
But Harvey, our Apollo, stopt not so,
Into the Bark and Root he after he did go:
No smallest Fibres of a Plant,
For which the Eye-beams point doth sharpness want,
His passage after her withstood;

WORDSWORTH

And Thou! whom earth still holds, and will not yield
To join the mighty brotherhood of ghosts, —
Who, when their lips upon the earth are sealed,
Sing in the presence of the Lord of Hosts: —
Thou that, when first my quickened ear
Thy deeper harmonies might hear,
I imaged to myself as old and blind,
For so were Milton and Maeonides!
And worthy art thou — whether like the wind

KEATS

O GOLD Hyperion, love-lorn Porphyro,
Ill-fated! from thine orbid fire struck back
Just as the parting clouds began to glow,
And stars, like sparks, to bicker in thy track!
Alas! throw down, throw down, ye mighty dead,
The leaves of oak and asphodel
That ye were weaving for that honored head, —
In vain, in vain, your lips would seek a spell
In the few charmid words the poet sung,

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charmed magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.