Thus spake at dawn to the fresh-open'd rose

Thus spake at dawn to the fresh-open’d rose
The courting-bird, ‘Cease thy so empty vaunt:
Comelier than thou full many each day unclose.’

She laughed:—‘In truth I care not, ne’ertheless
Strange lover thou, to use such harsh address:
No gallant vexeth beauty with such taunt.

Or ever thou receive this ruby red,
This wine, first must thy pearl’d disdainfulness
In passion’s suppliant sea its jewels shed.’

O vain it were love’s chanting voice to chide!
Though may no tongue those burning thoughts expound,
The ardent fire of love no heart can hide.

In his all-whelming tears hath Hafez drowned
Wisdom & patience, yet no peace hath found.

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