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Ode
100
WITHOUT a sign she went away;
Weary she seemed of us—put on
Her garments hurriedly, took up
Her burdens, and was gone.
Gone is she, yet no single kiss
Upon her red lips did I lay,
Looked such a little on her face—
And she has gone away.
I strive by many a magic charm
To bring her back; yea, I rehearse
The Koran's wizard chapters, I
Blow upon every verse.
“Never,” said she, “will I forsake
My friend and my companion”;
True love I gave her—in exchange
Secretly is she gone.
“Who loveth me himself must lose”;
So many a time to me she spake;
Thus not alone I lose myself,
But her too—for her sake.
Proudly she walked the meadows green,
A newly opened rose her face;
Alas! 't was never mine to walk
The meadows of her grace.
Yea, HAFIZ, 't was not even thine
Her parting face to look upon,
Nor might thou say farewell to her;
And, HAFIZ, she is gone.
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