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#41
  Posted: 14 Mar 2014 21:48
 
 
 XL 
As then the Tulip for her morning sup 
Of Heav'nly Vintage from the soil looks up, 
Do you devoutly do the like, till Heav'n 
To Earth invert you--like an empty Cup. 
XLI 
Perplext no more with Human or Divine, 
To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign, 
And lose your fingers in the tresses of 
The Cypress--slender Minister of Wine. 
XLII 
And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press 
End in what All begins and ends in--Yes; 
Think then you are To-day what Yesterday 
You were--To-morrow You shall not be less. 
XLIII 
So when that Angel of the darker Drink 
At last shall find you by the river-brink, 
And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul 
Forth to your Lips to quaff--you shall not shrink. 
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#42
  Posted: 14 Mar 2014 21:49
 
 
 XLIV 
Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, 
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride, 
Were't not a Shame--were't not a Shame for him 
In this clay carcase crippled to abide? 
XLV 
'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest 
A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest; 
The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash 
Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest. 
XLVI 
And fear not lest Existence closing your 
Account, and mine, should know the like no more; 
The Eternal Saki from that Bowl has pour'd 
Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour. 
XLVII 
When You and I behind the Veil are past, 
Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last, 
Which of our Coming and Departure heeds 
As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast. 
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#43
  Posted: 14 Mar 2014 21:49
 
 
 XLVIII 
A Moment's Halt--a momentary taste 
Of Being from the Well amid the Waste-- 
And Lo!--the phantom Caravan has reach'd 
The Nothing it set out from--Oh, make haste! 
XLIX 
Would you that spangle of Existence spend 
About the Secret--Quick about it, Friend! 
A Hair perhaps divides the False and True-- 
And upon what, prithee, may life depend? 
L 
A Hair perhaps divides the False and True; 
Yes; and a single Alif were the clue-- 
Could you but find it--to the Treasure-house, 
And peradventure to The Master too; 
LI 
Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins 
Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains; 
Taking all shapes from Mah to Mahi; and 
They change and perish all--but He remains; 
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#44
  Posted: 14 Mar 2014 21:50
 
 
 LII 
A moment guess'd--then back behind the Fold 
Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll'd 
Which, for the Pastime of Eternity, 
He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold. 
LIII 
But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor 
Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door 
You gaze To-day, while You are You--how then 
To-morrow, You when shall be You no more? 
LIV 
Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit 
Of This and That endeavour and dispute; 
Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape 
Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit. 
LV 
You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse 
I made a Second Marriage in my house; 
Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed 
And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse. 
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#45
  Posted: 14 Mar 2014 21:50
 
 
 LVI 
For "Is" and "Is-not" though with Rule and Line 
And "Up" and "Down" by Logic I define, 
Of all that one should care to fathom, 
Was never deep in anything but--Wine. 
LVII 
Ah, but my Computations, People say, 
Reduced the Year to better reckoning?--Nay 
'Twas only striking from the Calendar 
Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday. 
LVIII 
And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, 
Came shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape 
Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and 
He bid me taste of it; and 'twas--the Grape! 
LIX 
The Grape that can with Logic absolute 
The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute: 
The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice 
Life's leaden metal into Gold transmut 
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#46
  Posted: 14 Mar 2014 21:50
 
 
 LX 
The mighty Mahmud, Allah-breathing Lord 
That all the misbelieving and black Horde 
Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul 
Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword. 
LXI 
Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare 
Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare? 
A Blessing, we should use it, should we not? 
And if a Curse--why, then, Who set it there? 
LXII 
I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must, 
Scared by some After-reckoning ta'en on trust, 
Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink, 
To fill the Cup--when crumbled into Dust! 
LXIII 
Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! 
One thing at least is certain--This Life flies; 
One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; 
The Flower that once has blown for ever dies. 
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#47
  Posted: 14 Mar 2014 21:50
 
 
 LXIV 
Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who 
Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through, 
Not one returns to tell us of the Road, 
Which to discover we must travel too. 
LXV 
The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd 
Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn'd, 
Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep, 
They told their comrades, and to Sleep return'd. 
LXVI 
I sent my Soul through the Invisible, 
Some letter of that After-life to spell: 
And by and by my Soul return'd to me, 
And answer'd "I Myself am Heav'n and Hell:" 
LXVII 
Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire, 
And Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire, 
Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves, 
So late emerged from, shall so soon expire. 
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#48
  Posted: 14 Mar 2014 21:51
 
 
 LXVIII 
We are no other than a moving row 
Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go 
Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held 
In Midnight by the Master of the Show; 
LXIX 
But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays 
Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days; 
Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, 
And one by one back in the Closet lays. 
LXX 
The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, 
But Here or There as strikes the Player goes; 
And He that toss'd you down into the Field, 
He knows about it all--He knows--HE knows! 
LXXI 
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, 
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit 
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, 
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. 
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#49
  Posted: 14 Mar 2014 21:51
 
 
 LXXII 
And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, 
Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die, 
Lift not your hands to It for help--for It 
As impotently moves as you or I. 
LXXIII 
With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, 
And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: 
And the first Morning of Creation wrote 
What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read. 
LXXIV 
Yesterday This Day's Madness did prepare; 
To-morrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair: 
Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why: 
Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where. 
LXXV 
I tell you this--When, started from the Goal, 
Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal 
Of Heav'n Parwin and Mushtari they flung 
In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul. 
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#50
  Posted: 14 Mar 2014 21:52
 
 
 LXXVI 
The Vine had struck a fibre: which about 
If clings my being--let the Dervish flout; 
Of my Base metal may be filed a Key, 
That shall unlock the Door he howls without. 
LXXVII 
And this I know: whether the one True Light 
Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite, 
One Flash of It within the Tavern caught 
Better than in the Temple lost outright. 
LXXVIII 
What! out of senseless Nothing to provoke 
A conscious Something to resent the yoke 
Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain 
Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke! 
LXXIX 
What! from his helpless Creature be repaid 
Pure Gold for what he lent him dross-allay'd-- 
Sue for a Debt he never did contract, 
And cannot answer--Oh, the sorry trade! 
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