| Wind of the East, to yonder Graceful gazelle go say |
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| Sum and produce of this Workshop Of the Sphere, all this is nought |
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| All the talk with us yest'reven Of those ringlets rare of thine was |
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| When, in prayer, thy curving eyebrow To my memory doth come |
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| Up and in the golden goblet Water of delight cast thou |
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| Why seek'st thou righteousness from us? To topers "Hither! Ho!" we say |
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| We're gone, thou knowest and my heart That's eaten up with care |
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| Place, save thy sill, for me beneath The firmament is not |
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| Be't remembered that my dwelling Erst thy door anigh was |
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| Away, companions, with the knots Of the Friend's tress make ye! |
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