Short Poems

Blest is the man who loves and after early play
Whereby his limbs are supple made and strong,
Retiring to his house, with wine and song
Toys with a fair boy on his breast the livelong day!

You also, laughing one,
Tosser of balls in the sun,
Will pillow your bright head
By the incurious dead.

Where'er thou sail'st who sailed with me,
Though now thou climbest loftier mounts
And fairer rivers dost ascend
Be thou my muse, my Brother.

Suppression is the duty of a slave,
Expression is morality for the brave.
If you are born a king,
Fight, love, and sing!
But he who walks alone in liberty
Must face the hordes of massed humility.
Now, as of old, a leader risks his head—
A coward dies an inch a day, a hero is quick dead.

So sweet to tired mortality the night
Of Life's laborious day,
That God himself, o'erwearied of the light,
Within its shadow lay.

All kinds of men, both small and great,
A fine-spun web delight to create,
And in the middle they take their place,
And wield their scissors with wondrous grace.
But if a besom should sweep that way:
“What a most shameful thing,” they say,—
“They've crush'd a mighty palace to-day.”

B ULBUL'S song, through night hours cold,
Rose to Allah's throne on high;
To reward her melody,
Giveth he a cage of gold.
Such a cage are limbs of men,—
Though at first she feels confin'd,
Yet when all she brings to mind,
Straight the spirit sings again.

From heaven there fell upon the foaming wave
A timid drop; the flood with anger roar'd,—
But God, its modest boldness to reward,
Strength to the drop and firm endurance gave.
Its form the mussel captive took.
And to its lasting glory and renown,
The pearl now glistens in our monarch's crown,
With gentle gleam and loving look.

Writes he in Neski,
Faithfully speaks he;
Writes he in Talik,
Joy to give, seeks he:
Writes he in either,
Good!—for he loves!

O, say, 'neath what celestial sign
The day doth lie,
When ne'er again this heart of mine
Away will fly?
And e'en though fled (what thought divine!)
Would near me lie?—
On the soft couch, on whose sweet shrine
My heart near hers will lie!