A PERSIAN SONG OF HAFIZ. WEET maid, if thou wouldst charm my fight, SWE And bid these arms thy neck infold; That rofy cheek, that lily hand, Would give thy poet more delight Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand. Boy, let yon liquid ruby flow, And bid thy penfive heart be glad, Tell them, their Eden cannot show O! when these fair perfidious maids, Bedeh, faki, mei baki, Ke der jennet nekhahi yaft Kunari abi Rocnabad, Va gulghefhti Mofellara. Fugan kein lulian fhokh I fhiringari fhehrafhob Chunan berdendi fabr az dil Ke Turcan khani yagmara. In vain with love our bofoms glow: Speak not of fate :--- ah! change the theme, Talk of the flow'rs that round us bloom: 'Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream; To love and joy thy thoughts confine, Nor hope to pierce the facred gloom. Ze efhki na temami ma Jemali yari muftagnift; Be ab u reng u khal u khatt Che hajet ruyi zibara. Hadis az mutreb u mei gu, Va razi dehri kemter ju, Ke kes nekfhud u nekshaied Be hikmet ein moammara. K Beauty Beauty has fuch refiftless pow'r, That ev'n the chafte Egyptian dame Sigh'd for the blooming Hebrew boy; For her how fatal was the hour, When to the banks of Nilus came But ah! sweet maid, my counsel hear : Men az an hufni ruzafzun Ke Yufuf dashti daneftem, Ke efhk az perdei ifmet Berun ared Zuleikhara. Nafihet gofhi kun jana, Ke az jan doftiter darend Juvanani faadetmend I pendi peeri danara. What |