Page:The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East, Volume 08.djvu/113



They call you wicked, if to fame you're known,

And an intriguer, if you live alone;

Trust me, though you were Khizr or Elias,

'Tis best to know none, and of none be known.

Yes! here am I with wine and feres again!

I did repent, but, ah! 'twas all in vain;

Preach not to me of Noah and his flood,

But pour a flood of wine to drown my pain!

For union with my love I sigh in vain,

The pangs of absence I can scarce sustain,

My grief I dare not tell to any friend;

O trouble strange, sweet passion, bitter pain!

'Tis dawn! I hear the loud Muezzin's call,

And here am I before the vintner's hall;

This is no time of piety. Be still!

And drop your talk and airs devotional!

Angel of joyful foot! the dawn is nigh;

Pour wine, and lift your tuneful voice on high,

Sing how Jemshids and Khosraus bit the dust,

Whelmed by the rolling months, from Tir to Dai!

Frown not at revelers, I beg of thee,

For all thou keepest righteous company;

But drink, for, drink or no, 'tis all the same,

If doomed to hell, no heaven thou'lt ever see.