Classic Poem

FROM THE PERSIAN OF HAFIZ .

I have felt the sweet tortures of love,
Yet ask me not these to declare;
Now the poison of absence I prove,
Yet ask me not this to declare.

I have ransack'd the world through each part,
And at length have selected my fair;
From each bosom she steals every heart,
But her name — ask me not to declare.

Her light footsteps, wherever she go,
With her ringlets perfuming the air,
From my eyes tears of joy overflow; —
'Tis a joy — ask me not to declare:

No later than yesterday night,
From her mouth, with which none can compare,
I heard words of transcendant delight —
Yet those words — ask me not to declare.

But why bite those lips? Why with hint
My fidelity question, unfair?
Yes — her red ruby lips did I print,
But her name — will I never declare.

Maid beloved! without thee, while alone
In this cot doom'd existence to bear,
Thro' each moment of absence I moan
With a grief — ask me not to declare.

Thus at length behold Hafiz, whose song
Has so frequently flow'd void of care,
Whirl'd by Love's tender passion along
With a force — ask me not to declare.