THE QUATRAINS OF
In truth wine is a spirit thin as air,
A limpid soul in the cup's earthen ware;
No dull dense person shall he friend of mine
Save wine-cups, which are dense and also rare.
O wheel of heaven! no ties of bread you feel,
No ties of salt, you flay me like an eel!
A woman's wheel spins clothes for man and wife,
It does more good than you, heavenly wheel!
Did no fair rose my paradise adorn,
would make shift to deck it with a thorn;
And if I lacked my prayer-mats, beads, and Shaikh,
Those Christian bells and stoles I would not scorn.
291. L. N. B. Láyik . . . . man: izáfat omitted because of the intervening words. Lumsden, ii., 250.
292. C. L. N. A. I. J.