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But thou, joy-giver and enjoyer,
Let the great world bustle on With war and trade, with camp and town, A thousand men shall dig and eat; At forge and furnace thousands sweat ; And thousands sail the purple sea, And give or take the stroke of war, Or crowd the market and bazaar; Oft shall war end, and peace return, And cities rise where cities burn, Ere one man my hill shall climb, Who can turn the golden rhyme. Let them manage how they may, Heed thou only Saadi's lay. Seek the living among the dead, Man in man is imprisoned ; Barefooted Dervish is not poor, If fate unlock his bosom's door, So that what his
hath seen His tongue can paint as bright, as keen; And what his tender heart hath felt With equal fire thy heart shall melt. For, whom the Muses smile upon, And touch with soft persuasion, His words like a storm-wind can bring Terror and beauty on their wing ; In his every syllable Lurketh Nature veritable; And though he speak in midnight dark, In heaven no star, on earth no spark,Yet before the listener's eye Swims the world in ecstasy, The forest waves, the morning breaks, The pastures sleep, ripple the lakes, Leaves twinkle, flowers like persons be, And life pulsates in rock or tree.
Saadi, so far thy words shall reach :
And thus to Saadi said the Muse :
Eat thou the bread which men refuse ; Flee from the goods which from thee flee; Seek nothing,-Fortune seeketh thee. Nor mount, nor dive; all good things keep The midway of the eternal deep. Wish not to fill the isles with eyes To fetch thee birds of paradise : On thine orchard's edge belong All the brags of plume and song; Wise Ali's sunbright sayings pass For proverbs in the market-place; Through mountains bored by regal art, Toil whistles as he drives his cart. Nor scour the seas, nor sift mankind, A poet or a friend to find : Behold, he watches at the door! Behold his shadow on the floor! Open innumerable doors The heaven where unveiled Allah pours The flood of truth, the flood of good, The Seraph's and the Cherub's food : Those doors are men : the Pariah hind Admits thee to the perfect Mind. Seek not beyond thy cottage wall Redeemers that can yield thee all : While thou sittest at thy door On the desert's yellow floor, Listening to the gray-haired crones, Foolish gossips, ancient drones, Saadi, see! they rise in stature To the height of mighty Nature, And the secret stands revealed Fraudulent Time in vain concealed, That blessed gods in servile masks Plied for thee thy household tasks.”
ROM fall to spring the russet acorn,
Fruit beloved of maid and boy, Lent itself beneath the forest,
To be the children's toy.
Pluck it now! In vain,—thou canst not;
Its root has pierced yon shady mound. Toy no longer-it has duties;
It is anchored in the ground.
Year by year the rose-lipped maiden,
Playfellow of young and old,
More dear to one than mines of gold.
Whither went the lovely hoyden ?
Disappeared in blessed wife; Servant to a wooden cradle,
Living in a baby's life.
Still thou playest ;-short vacation
Fate grants each to stand aside ; Now must thou be man and artist,
'Tis the turning of the tide.
PAINTING AND SCULPTURE.
HE sinful painter drapes his goddess warm, '
Because she still is naked, being dressed : The godlike sculptor will not so deform Beauty, which limbs and flesh enough invest.
FROM THE PERSIAN OF HAFIZ.
The poems of Hafiz are held by the Persians to be allegoric and mystical. His German editor, Von Hammer, remarks on the following poem, that, “though in appearance anacreontic, it may be regarded as one of the best of those compositions which earned for Hafiz the honourable title of “Tongue of the Secret.'
UTLER, fetch the ruby wine
Which with sudden greatness fills us ;
Wisely said the Kaisar Jamschid,
The world's not worth a barleycorn :
Angels the way to Paradise !
On the glowing coals I'll set it,
Fear the changes of a day: