Classic Poem

To me the East wind yesternight The tidings rare hath brought
That tow'rd an end its face the day Of grief and care hath brought.

Unto the minstrels of the draught Of dawn our raiment torn
We'll give as gift for the glad news The morning-air hath brought.

Come, come; for thee into the world, Houri of Paradise,
For the sheer sake of thy slave's heart, Rizwan from there hath brought

The wind-waft of thy tress is grown My Khizr in Love's way;
O what a way-mate unto me My fortune fair hath brought!

How many a moan my heart hath sent Up to the tented moon,
When it that moon-cheek to my thought, Haloed with hair, hath brought!

Strive ye the heart of dervishes To win; for this felt cap,
Many's the breach on kingly crowns That it whilere hath brought!

Mensour's insignia to the sky Hath Hafiz raised, since Fate
Unto the King of Kings' high court Him to repair hath brought.