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Until Allah pleases soon

Reunite us, all appears,

Sun and time and earth and moon,
Opportunity for tears.

Let me weep! Around the night encamps
On the illimitable waste.

The camels rest, the drivers by their side,
Silently reckoning watches the Armenian;
But I beside him reckon up the miles

Which divide me from Suleika, travel o'er
All the tedious windings which protract the way.

Let me weep! For that is no disgrace :
Excellent are weeping men.

E'en Achilles wept for his Briseïs !

Xerxes bewailed his once unconquered host:
Over the favorite slain by his own hands
Alexander wept.

Let me weep! Tears quicken all the dust:
Already 'tis greening.


All this stir a somewhat brings :
Would the East glad news impart ?

The fresh fanning of its wings

Cools the deep wounds of the heart.

With the dust it plays and coses,
, Chasing it in little clouds,
And for safety to the roses

Drives the frolic insect-crowds.

Tempers soft the noonday fluster,
Cools too glowing cheeks for me,
Kisses flying every cluster

That parades on hill and tree.

And its gentle whispers bring me
Thousand messages to greet:
Ere these hills their shadows fling me,
I shall listen at his feet.

Then may'st leave again, to wander
Mid the happy, soothe the pain.
Where the high walls glisten yonder,
Soon I'll find delight again.

Ah, my heart, thy real tiding,
Waft of love that makes me live,
On this Eastern breath is riding,
Only for his lips to give.





of Hellens the Apollo,

Goes sumptuous on the skyey way; To make the worlds attend and follow,

Around he looks, beneath, away.

He sees the fairest goddess weeping,

Cloud-daughter, of the heavenly kind,

To her alone his glances sweeping
Are to the jocund spaces blind.

In chill he sinks, and then her sadness
More freely feeds the bitter flow:
To her lamenting sends he gladness,
To every pearl the kisses go.

Now deep she feels his glance's passion, And fixed aloft her look has gone; The pearls have rounded to a fashion, His image each has taken on.

With color haloed thus, a shining
Regard she turns cleared up of rain,
He comes toward her so inclining,
Yet he, alas, does not attain.

So, just when joys on fate's tears follow,
O loveliest, dost fade and fail;
Then even were I great Apollo,
What would the chariot avail?


IMSELF to match how famously the poet

Deprives the king his pomp, the sun its fires: But when the night creeps o'er him, lest he show it, Deject to hiding he retires.

So, flung behind barr'd clouds to sicken,

In darkness dropped the heaven's clearest blue; With famine pale my cheeks are stricken, And my heart's tears are gray as dew.

Leave me not so to gloom, to sorrow,

Thou all-beloved, thou my moon by night, Oh, thou my taper, Phosphor of a morrow, My risen sun, thou, all my light.


Ah, west wind, how sore I envy
Thee those moist wings sailing by!
For thou canst report my pining,
Out of absence waft a sigh.

In the breast a quiet longing
Wakes at motion of thy wing;

Tears on flower, hill, and meadow
In thy breath are gathering.

Yet thy mild and quiet blowing
Cools the swollen lids that burn;
Ah, for sorrow I should perish
If I hoped not his return.

Hasten then to my beloved,

Speak in softness to his heart, Yet, take care not to afflict him, So conceal from him my smart.

Say to him, but say it lowly,

That his love is all my life; Joyous touch of both he gives me When his nearness ends their strife.


◄TAR of stars, but is this real?


Do I feel again thy heart?

Ah, the night of separation,
What abyss it is, what smart!
Yes, it is thyself, the cherished
Counterpart of all my joy!
But the past grief in me shudders,
Gives the present its alloy.

When the world in deepest essence
Lay on God's eternal breast,

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