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Bethink thee, Hassan, where shall thirst assuage,
Ye mute companions of my toils, that bear In all my griefs a more than equal share ! Here, where no springs in murmurs break away, Or moss-crown'd fountains mitigate the day, In vain ye hope the green delights to know, Which plains more blest, or verdant vales bestow : Here rocks alone, and tasteless sands are found, And faint and sickly winds for ever howl around. “ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, " When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!”
Curst be the gold and silver which persuade
Why heed we not, whilst mad we haste along,
O cease my fears !-All frantic as I
go, When thought creates unnumber'd scenes of woe; What if the lion in his
I meet! Oft in the dust I view his printed feet: And fearful! oft, when day's declining light Yields her pale empire to the mourner night, By hunger rous'd, he scours the groaning plain, Gaunt wolves and sullen tigers in his train: Before them Death with shrieks direct their way, Fills the wild yell, and leads them to their prey. “ Sad was the hour, and luckless was the day, “ When first from Schiraz' walls I bent my way!"
At that dead hour, the silent
Thrice happy they, the wise contented poor, From lust of wealth, and dread of death secure! They tempt no deserts, and no griefs they find; Peace rules the day where reason rules the mind.
He said, and call’d on heaven to bless the day, And back to Schiraz' walls he bent his way.
VIRTUE ALONE AFFORDS TRUE
What nothing earthly gives, or can destroy,
Rewards, that either would to virtue bring
Honour and shame from no condition rise;
friend; a wise man and a fool. You'll find, if once the monarch acts the monk, Or, cobler-like, the parson will be drunk, Worth makes the man, and want of it the fellow, The rest is all but leather or prunella. Stuck o'er with titles, and hung round with
strings, That thou may'st be by kings, or whores of kings; " Where,
Boast the pure blood of an illustrious race,
the heroes and the wise." Heroes are much the same, the point's agreed, From Macedonia's madman to the Swede: The whole strange purpose of their lives, to find Or make an enemy of all mankind ! Not one looks backward, onward still he goes, Yet ne'er looks forward further than his nose. No less alike the politic and wise ; All fly slow things with circumspective eyes; Men in their loose unguarded hours they take, Not that themselves are wise, but others weak. But grant that those can conquer,
can cheat: "Tis phrase absurd, to call a villain great ; Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, Is but the more a fool, the more a knave.