A Persian Song of Hafez
| A Persian Song of Hafez by , translated by William Jones |
SWEET maid, if thou would'ſt charm my ſight,
And bid theſe arms thy neck infold ;
That roſy 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 penſive heart be glad,
Whate'er the frowning zealots ſay :
Tell them, their Eden cannot ſhow
A ſtream ſo clear as Rocnabad,
A bower ſo ſweet as Mofellay,
O ! when theſe fair perfidious maids,
Whoſe eyes our ſecret haunts infeſt,
Their dear definitive charms diſplay
Each glance my tender breaſt invades,
And robs my wounded foul of reſt,
As Tartars ſeize their deſtin'd prey,
In vain with love our boſoras glow:
Can all our tears, can all our ſighs,
New luſtre to thoſe charms impart ?
Can cheeks, where living roſes blow,
Where nature ſpreads her richeſt dyes,
Require the borrow'd gloſs of art?
Speak not of fate:—ah! change the theme,
And talk of odours, talk of wine,
Talk of the flowers that round us bloom:
'Tis all a cloud, 'tis all a dream;
To love and joy thy thoughts confine,
Nor hope to pierce the ſacred gloom.
Beauty has ſuch reſiſtleſs power,
That even the chaſte Egyptian dame'
Sigh'd for the blooming Hebrew boy J
For her how fatal was the hour,
When to the banks of Nilus came
A youth ſo lovely and ſo coy !
But ah ! ſweet maid, my counſel hear
(Youth ſhould attend when thoſe adviſe
Whom long experience renders ſage) :
While muſick charms the raviſh'd ear,
While ſparkling cups delight our eyes,
Be gay; and ſcorn the frowns of age.
What cruel anſwer have I heard !
And yet, by heaven, I love thee ſtill:
Can aught be cruel from thy lip ?
Yet fay, how fell that bitter word
From lips which ſtreams of ſweetneſs fill,
Which nought but drops of honey ſip ?
Go boldly forth, my ſimple lay,
Whoſe accents flow with artleſs eaſe,
Like orient pearls at random ſtrung:
Thy notes are ſweet, the damſels- fay;
But O ! far ſweeter, if they pleaſe
The nymph for whom theſe notes are ſung.
