Page:The Sacred Books and Early Literature of the East, Volume 08.djvu/90

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342

If so it be that I did break the fast,
Think not I meant it; no! I thought 'twas past---
That day more weary than a sleepless night---
And blessed breakfast-time had come at last!

343

I never drank of joy's sweet cordial,
But grief's fell hand infused a drop of gall;
Nor dipped my bread in pleasure's piquant salt,
But briny sorrow made me smart withal!

344

At dawn to tavern-haunts I wend my way,
And with distraught Salendars pass the day;
O Thou! who know'st things secret, and things known,
Grant me Thy grace, that I may learn to pray!

345

The world's annoys I rate not at one grain,
So I eat once a day I don't complain;
And, since earth's kitchen yields no solid food,
I pester no man with petitions vain.

346

Never from worldly toils have I been free,
Never for one short moment glad to be!
I served a long apprenticeship to fate,
But yet of fortune gained no mastery.

347

One hand with Koran, one with wine-cup dight,
I half incline to wrong, and half to right;
The azure-marbled sky looks down on me,
A sorry Muslim, yet not heathen quite.