Page:The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East, Volume 08.djvu/66



Rich men, who take to drink, the world defy

With shameless riot, and as beggars die;

Place in my ruby pipe some emerald hemp,

'Twill do as well to blind care's serpent eye.

These fools have never burnt the midnight oil

In deep research, nor do they ever toil

To step beyond themselves, but dress them fine,

And plot of credit others to despoil.

When false dawn streaks the east with cold, gray line,

Pour in your cups the pure blood of the vine;

The truth, they say, tastes bitter in the mouth,

This is a token that the "Truth " is wine.

Now is the time earth decks her greenest bowers,

And trees, like Musa's hand, grow white with flowers!

As 'twere at 'Isa's breath the plants revive,

While clouds brim o'er, like tearful eyes, with showers.

Oh burden not thyself with drudgery,

Lord of white silver and red gold to be;

But feast with friends, ere this warm breath of thine

Be chilled in death, and earthworms feast on thee.

The showers of grape juice, which cupbearers pour,

Quench fires of grief in many a sad heart's core.

Praise be to Allah, who hath sent this balm

To heal sore hearts, and spirits' health restore!