THE MYSTIC’S CHOICE.

MINE be pure love, love that pursues his hest

Through wild and desert; mine the lone lament

The heart of Majnūn and his weary quest,

And tears and raiment rent.

Mine be the toil that overtasks the breath,

The cry of pain, the agony of strife,

The life that only lives to long for death,

For death more dear than life.

Mine be the wine of love, the deadly wine

That floods like lava all the seething brain,

Leaving the lips unslaked; fell draught, be mine,

My medicine and my bane.

Mine be the shame, if others deem it shame,

To love unloved, nor falter, suffering wrong,

Until beneath the earth my fame and name

Be buried and my song.