| Save only that faith and reason I've lost, belovéd one |
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| Song from the Diwan |
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| Queen of mine, thou go'st so goodly That for thee outright I die |
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| Come back and soul's ally Unto my bosom strait be |
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| In whatso love-questing, wherein, Excepting fireflaught, there is not |
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| This my love for thee, my fair one, On what wise shall I assain? |
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| By the world-illumining splendour Of Shah Shejáa his reign |
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| By the glory and might and power Of Shah Shejáa I swear |
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| The Good news is come that Spring's At hand, with its verdure fine |
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| O justice-doer, thy bosom-friend And cup-companion the Sphere still be! |
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