The Locust

O locust, beguiler of my desires, giver of sleep, Muse of the corn-lands with shrill-sounding wings, nature's mimic of the lyre, sing for me some well-loved song, O locust, beating your strident wings with your legs, to deliver me from the pains of sleepless thought, O locust, singer of the music which soothes love!
In the morning I will give you a fresh leek and drops of dew which you shall drink from my lips.

Love's Importunity

Ever the echo of Love sounds in my ears; in silence my eye sheds a tear to Desire; neither night nor day assuages me. Already through love-spells an impress is marked on my heart.
O winged Loves, do you know so well how to fly to me and yet not how to fly away?

Sharqi

SHAR Q I

To whom that wine-red ruby's shown
Is captive by those locks o'erthrown;
'Tis meet like nightingale I moan:
A lovely Scio Rose is blown.

Unmatched yon maid with waist so spare,
Unrivaled too her wanton air;
Her ways than e'en herself more fair:
A lovely Scio Rose is blown.

The roses like her cheeks are few;
That rose — blush-pink its darling hue;
This summer ere the roses blew,

To Spring

The thrushes throng the grove —
O golden notes,
Drenched with desire and love
From fairy throats!

How jocund are the field
And meadow greening!
What whisper has revealed
The warm wind's meaning?

A lark aloft outfloods
His chant afar,
As above sombre woods
A courier star.

The sun, the spring are here
And May's green dance.
The dreaming days appear
Of old romance.

Ah spring, ah May, in sooth
How throbs this hour!
How earth renews her youth!

Embarras de Richesse

O hair of Timo, O sandal of Heliodora, O myrrh-breathing mouth of Demarion, O voluptuous laugh of ox-eyed Anticleia, O new-flowered coronals of Dorothea!
Your quiver, Love, conceals no more winged shafts — all your arrows are in me!

Love's Song

L OVE'S S ONG

Sweet were those moments when the heart was gay,
And the soul's realm, the court of joy's array:
Thoughts of those times now o'er my spirit stray,
For love of God! O Heavens! mercy! pray!
The pride of both the day and night was I.

A garden fair was that my soul's repose;
Like those in Eden's bower, its every rose;
But parting comes and all of that o'erthrows,
Now in my heart nought but its mem'ry glows.

The Song of Love's Nurse

THE SONG OF LOVE'S NURSE

O moon! sleep, sleep thou, for this night
The cry " O Lord! " upon thine ear shall smite;
Though formed, its purpose is yet hid from sight,
It shall be seen — the stars' potential might.
Thou'lt be the roast upon the spit of pain!

O Rosebud! sleep thou then this little while;
The Sphere's design against thee sooth is vile,
For pitiless is it and strong in guile;
Ah! never trust it, even though it smile.

Upon Her Commending His Verses to His First Love

F RAGMENT

Think not that with Kevser's praises hearts become of joy full;
Preacher, rather doth the tale of mouth and kiss the soul rule.
Thinking of her rubies red, whene'er I drink tobacco,
The nargila's a flask of wine, the pipe-bowl is a sumbul.
Know how holy is her land: — who dwelleth in Edirna,
Ere he to the Ka'ba bends, doth turn him to Istambul.

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