Classic Poem

When, in prayer, thy curving eyebrow To my memory doth come,
Forth the prayer-niche into clamour, For my ecstasy, doth come.

Look henceforward not for patience, Sense nor fortitude from me;
All to empty air that patience, Which thou saw'st in me, doth come.

Clarified's the wine and drunken Are the songsters of the sward:
Lover-tide it is, to blossom When Love's mystery doth come.

From the world create the perfume Of well-being do I scent;
Joy the rose brought and the East wind Into jubilee doth come.

Bride of skill, of Fortune's rigours Moan no longer nor complain;
Deck the bride-chamber of beauty; For the bridegroom, see, doth come.

Yonder blooming heart-beguilers All have bound on ornaments,
Save our charmer: in God-given Beauty only she doth come.

Lo, the trees are burden-bearing, That on flowers and fruit depend:
Happy cypress, from the burden Of chagrin that free doth come!

Minstrel, come; a dulcet ditty Chant of Hafiz' uttering;
Till I say, " To me rememb'rance Of the time of glee doth come. "