Page:The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East, Volume 08.djvu/52



Pen, tablet, heaven and hell I looked to see

Above the skies, from all eternity;

At last the master sage instructed me,

"Pen, tablet, heaven and hell are all in thee. "

The fruit of certitude he can not pluck,

The path that leads thereto who never struck,

Nor ever shook the bough with strenuous hand;

To-day is lost; hope for to-morrow's luck.

Now spring-tide showers its foison on the land,

And lively hearts wend forth, a joyous band,

For 'Isa's breath wakes the dead earth to life,

And trees gleam white with flowers, like Musa's hand.

Alas for that cold heart, which never glows

With love, nor e'er that charming madness knows;

The days misspent with no redeeming love;---

No days are wasted half as much as those!

The zephyrs waft thy fragrance, and it takes

My heart, and me, his master, he forsakes;

Careless of me he pants and leaps to thee,

And thee his pattern and ensample makes!

Drink wine! and then as Mahmud thou wilt reign,

And hear a music passing David's strain:

Think not of past or future, seize to-day,

Then all thy life will not be lived in vain.