Classic Poem

In tulip-tide take the cup And no hypocrite be thou!
In the hope of the rose, a mate Of the East Wind a-flit be thou!

An if, like Jemshid, thou'dst attain To the mystery of the Unseen,
Come and the mate of the cup World-showing, to wit, be thou.

I bid thee not all the year Wine-worshipping use; nine months
Abstain thou from wine and three A drinker of it be thou.

If th' elder of Love's highway Should charge thee to drink of wine,
Go, drink, and in God a-trust, Thy sins to remit, be thou.

Though, bud-like, the things of the world In straitness for aye consist,
Knot-opening, like to the wind Of Spring, if thou've wit, be thou.

To no one for faith look thou. My rede an thou hearken not,
A-seek for Philosopher's Stone And Phoenix 'tis fit thou be.

Hafiz, ensue not the ways And the laws of the folk of the world;
Of those, with the winebibbers pure Forever that sit, be thou.

Still the pearl of mystery's storehouse In the screen, as 'twas, is;
With that seal and mark Love's casket Still beseen, as 'twas, is.

Lovers are a trusty people, Well who keep Love's secret;
Yea, the lover's eye still raining Pearls of sheen, as 'twas, is.

Ask the East wind how the fragrance Of thy tress our soul-mate
All night long till dawn, in seasons That have been as 'twas, is

Seeker after gems and rubies None there is; and natheless
Still the sun in mine and quarry Busy seen, as 'twas, is.

Lo, the colour of our heart's blood, Which to hide thou usest,
In thy lip of ruby patent Still, I ween, as 'twas, is.

To the victim of thy glances Come in visitation;
Since the wretch's heart expectant Still, my queen, as 'twas, is.

" Thy black tress, " quoth I, " will never More be highway robbing. "
Years have passed and still its usance And demean as 'twas, is.

Hafiz, tell once more the story Of thine eye's blood-water;
In this fountain still the well-spring Flowing, e'en as 'twas, is.