Go boldly forth, and feast on being's banquet;
Thou art the called, — the rest admitted with thee.

From Hilali
Hark what, now loud, now low, the pining flute complains,
Without tongue, yellow-cheeked, full of winds that wail and sigh;
Saying, Sweetheart! the old mystery remains, —
If I am I; thou, thou; or thou art I?

From Hafiz
Thy foes to hunt, thy enviers to strike down,
Poises Arcturus aloft morning and evening his spear.

Dearest, where thy shadow falls,
Beauty sits, and Music calls;
Where thy form and favor come,
All good creatures have their home.

They say, through patience, chalk
Becomes a ruby stone;
Ah, yes! but by the true heart's blood
The chalk is crimson grown.

A breath of the mountains, fresh born in the regions majestic,
That look with their eye-daring summits deep into the sky.
The voice of great Nature; sublime with her lofty conceptions,
Yet earnest and simple as any sweet child of the green lowly vale.

The mosquito knows full well, small as he is
he's a beast of prey.
But after all
he only takes his bellyful,
he doesn't put my blood in the bank.

HIS Son's
A Jew.
I thought

How gorgeous that shock of red lilies, and larkspur cleaving
All with a flash of blue! — when will she be leaving
Her room, where the night still hangs like a half-folded bat,
And passion unbearable seethes in the darkness, like must in a vat.

If thou chance for to find
A new House to thy mind,
And built without thy Cost:
Be good to the Poor,
As God gives thee store,
And then my Labour's not lost.