38.
The Mountain Tulip lasts but seven days,
The River Violet lives but seven days,
And I will cry the news from town to town
That Rosy Cheeks keep faith but seven days.
39.
When Trees to grow beyond their boundaries dare,
They cause the Gardeners much anxious care;
Down to their very Roots they must be pruned,
Though Pearls and Rubies be the Fruits they bear.
40.
Blessed are the Friends of God, Oh, blessed are they
Whose Task is ever “He is God” to say;
Happy are they who always are at Prayers,
For Heaven rewards them at the Final Day.
41.
Whom fearest Thou, of Man who makest light?
Whom fearest Thou, Who puttest him to flight?
Half-hearted as I am, yet I fear none;
Whom fearest Thou, O Double-Heart of might?
42.
What though my Jar of Life be filled with Tears?
When I am dead, released from all my Fears,
Thy passing o’er my Grave will bring me back
To claim again the Bounty of my years.
43.
Thy Curly Locks in tangled Masses fall
About thy Rosy Cheeks that hold me thrall,
On every separate Strand of thy soft Hair
There hangs a Heart,—a Heart upon them all.
44.
Like a sad-sounding Flute, Oh plaintively
My Heart laments. The Fear of losing thee
Will haunt my soul till Resurrection Day,
And God alone knows when that Day will be!
45.
Love, to be sweetest, Love-Returned must be,
For else the Lover’s Heart grows sick, you see:
Take Majnūn, he was desperately in love,
But Leila even more in love than he.
46.
Such Storms descend upon me from the Skies,
That salt Tears ever sparkle in mine Eyes;
The Smoke of my Lament goes up to Heaven,
For ever fall my Tears, my Groans arise.
47.
Only, from Grief, that Prevalent Disease,
An Alchemist could free us, should he please,
Yet comes at last a Remedy for all,
The Heart returns to Nothing, and finds Ease.
48.
Beset with Thorns and Thistles is thy Road,
Yet up to Heaven’s Gate such Seed is sowed,
If thou canst leave thy Flesh upon these Thorns,
Leave it, and travel with a Lighter Load.
49.
I am but a Taper weeping from the Flame:
Are not the Tears of Burning Hearts the same?
All night I burn, and all day long I weep,
For Days and Nights like this thou art to blame!
50.
Oh, evil Fate that I should have to die!
But what is Fate when Destiny’s awry?
A Briar in Love’s Path, then let my Thorns
Tear out my Heart, that I may cease to sigh.
51.
What would it matter if but one small Grief
Were mine? but Oh, my Wounds are past belief!
A Doctor or my Love to share my Couch—
Ah, only one of these could bring Relief.
52.
My Heart is fragile, like my Glass, and I
Fear lest I break it when I heave a Sigh,
A Tree whose Tears are Blood—is this so Strange,
When in a Pool of Blood my Roots must lie?
53.
I pray thy Sun-like face may never lack
The Shafts that split my Heart in swift Attack:
Why is the mole upon thy cheek so dark?
Objects so near the sun become burnt black.
54.
I go—I leave the World—I journey far
Beyond where even China’s limits are,
And going, ask of Pilgrims whom I meet,
“Is this the End? Is this the Outmost Star?”
55.
O Thou Who didst create the Earth, the Sky,
How have we served Thee save to curse, deny?
Now by the Faith of Thy Beloved Twelve,
Preserve us Lord—we are not fit to die.
56.
My Heart and Soul are thine, O Lovely One,
My Secrets are thy Treasure, Lovely One.
I know not, truly, whence my Sorrow comes,
But know that thou canst heal it, Lovely One,
57.
Where art thou, Love? Where is the Burning Spell
Of those kohl-shaded Eyes? O Love, I dwell
On Earth but little longer—Tāhir dies—
Where art thou at this Moment of Farewell!
ELIZABETH CURTIS BRENTON.
NEW MILFORD, CONN., U.S.A.
April, 1901.