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| | A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, |
| A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Breadand Thou |
| Beside me singing in the Wilderness |
| Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow! |
OFT have the footsteps of my Soul been led | |
| By thee, sweet Omar, far from hum of toil | |
| To where the Chenar trees their plumage spread | |
| And tangly vines of wild-grape thickest coil; | |
| Where distant fields, scarce glimpst in noon content, | 5 |
| Are lush with verdure quick upon the plough; | |
| Where trill of Nightingale beneath the Tent | |
| Of heaven sinks away to soft lament; | |
| There have I sat with Thee and conned ere now | |
| A Book of Verses underneath the Bough. | 10 |
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| When from the citys raucous din new-freed | |
| I quaff thy wisdom from the Clearing Cup | |
| Of Rubaiyat, then, even as I read, | |
| I seem with Thee, in Persian groves to sup | |
| On bread of Yezdakhast and Shiraz Wine | 15 |
| That lifts the net of Care from off the brow. | |
| These words, that tongue the Spirit of the Vine, | |
| Break from the Veil, and lo! the Voice is thine: | |
| Then is my wishwould Fate that wish allow! | |
| A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Breadand Thou. | 20 |
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| Although I tread the Wilderness of life, | |
| Thy song can waft me to that careless clime, | |
| Where enter in nor memories of strife, | |
| Nor ghosts of woe from out the Gulf of Time. | |
| There, by thy side, great Omar, would I stray, | 25 |
| And drink the Juice that has forgot the Press, | |
| (A Pot, the Potter shaped but Yesterday | |
| To-morrow will it be but broken Clay?) | |
| With only Thee the toilsome road to bless, | |
| Beside me singing in the Wilderness. | 30 |
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| When thou dost scorn the waste and mourn the Rose, | |
| That dies upon the worlds too sinful breast, | |
| In thy disdain a wondrous beauty glows, | |
| Unfolding visions of a Life more blest. | |
| Then from thy Naishapur in Khorasan | 35 |
| I seem to wander, though I know not how, | |
| Within the glittering gates of Jennistan, | |
| Supreme Shadukiam I wondering scan: | |
| Though still I walk the Wilderness, I vow | |
| Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow! | 40 |
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