Classic Poem

When the thought of thy face overpasseth The rosegarden red of the eye,
My heart, for the purpose of gazing, To the window is led of the eye.

O come, for all manner of rubies And pearls of great price, in thy way
To strew, from the heart's provant-chamber, We've haled to the stead of the eye.

No pleasaunce that's meet for thy session, No couching-place worthy of thee,
I see in the world, save this corner, Ordained for thy bed, of the eye.

My heart, the First Day that I looked on Thy cheek in Eternity's Prime,
“If harm anywhit,” said, “betide me, My blood on the head of the eye!”

My tears, overflowing at daybreak, Were purposed to ruin my life,
If the blood of my liver to seize on The skirt had not sped of the eye.

In hope of the news of thy coming, Last night, in the way of the wind,
Till daybreak, the luminous cresset I planted and fed of the eye.

On a man's expectation and striving Have pity, the blood of whose heart,
On his cheek flowing down, from the window All nightly is shed of the eye.

For charity's sake, I conjure thee, Launch not at poor Hafiz's breast
That heart-thrilling, man-overthrower, That crossbow-bolt dread of the eye!