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OF Love that melts and Love that burns,

Wouldst thou the secret fountain know?

Ask of the bulbul where he learns

The notes that hot with passion glow;

Ask of the hymns that night and morn

Rise from the hermit’s lonely cell,

And ask of Ayaz’ tresses shorn

What they of Mahmud’s pain can tell.

Makhfi! wouldst thou discover where

Is hid the mystery of Love?

Go, listen to the voice of prayer

That bears it to the world above.