POETRY.
FROM THE PERSIAN OF HAFIZ.
[Whether Halle sang of earthly, or of spiritual wine and lore, was doubtful, even to his contemporaries ; and they only gave him the barial of a tree believer after the =gory of opening his Book of Songs, and coming upon the words, “Though Hatt is covered with id., God bas accepted him... The book still lies on his tomb in Shiraz, and is still aonsalted by those who visit the shrine.] BRING out the wine, Cupbearer ! Ho !
Pour out, and high the goblet fill; For though at first it smooth did flow, Love's course is crossed and troubled still.
The zephyrs fragrance round us fling, As through the Loved One's hair they play: But, for that fragrance which they bring, Our heart's blood is the price we pay.
The leader of the Caravan Must know the road, and all its ways : Then follow still the Guide of man, Where'er he goes, where'er he stays.
There are who say that on this earth
A halting-place may still be found, A halting-place for love and mirth,
For those upon life's journey bound:
But what of love or mirth can tell To mg, who hear the warning tone In every camel's tinkling bell- " Load up, the caravan goes on!"
The night is dark: the waves strike fear The whirling waters wildly roar : Our lot how should they know who bear Their own light burdens on the shore.
Now all my work in vain has been ; Self-seeking cannot come to good The soul must End that good within, Not with the worldly multitude.
Hafiz, THE PRESENCE wouldst thou see, No moment's absence must thou know : When The Beloved bath met with thee,
Give up the world, and let it go. E. S.
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