The rose garden of Persia . alk to me of power or fame, ,? What are those idle toys to me? j|] Why ask the praises of my name; f My joy, my triumph is in thee! i. : ;g:=cg^^^pc>3>g^>:>:::^->:>:s=:^ Si How blest am I! around me, swelling,The notes of melody arise;I hold the cup, with juice gaze upon thy radiant , Hafiz!—never waste thy hoursWithout the cup, the lute, and love!For tis the sweetest time of none these moments nightingales around thee is the joyous feast of spring. THE SEASON OF THE: ROSE. String the l

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The rose garden of Persia . alk to me of power or fame, ,? What are those idle toys to me? j|] Why ask the praises of my name; f My joy, my triumph is in thee! i. : ;g:=cg^^^pc>3>g^>:>:::^->:>:s=:^ Si How blest am I! around me, swelling,The notes of melody arise;I hold the cup, with juice gaze upon thy radiant , Hafiz!—never waste thy hoursWithout the cup, the lute, and love!For tis the sweetest time of none these moments nightingales around thee is the joyous feast of spring. THE SEASON OF THE: ROSE. String the lyre!—has Fortune everGiven to men of worth their due ?Then, since vain is all endeavour,And we scorn her malice should we refuse to shareAll the joys these hours prepare ?Now the air is filled with mirth;Now the roses spring from earth;Now they bloom, but now alone,—Pear not, though the wise reprove;Ere their soft perfume be gone,Raise the soul to verse and love. t ! ? !»yi-!^JL>-!>.-^! A»J,lli-4-r. ^-^^

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdeca, booksubjectenglishpoetry, bookyear1887