Classic Poem

Yestermorn relief from sorrow, In the dawntide white, They gave me
And Life's water, in the darkest Deep of parting's night, They gave me.

Yea, beside myself they made me With the radiance of her being:
From the beaker of her beauty Wine of very light They gave me.

Oh how blessed was that dawntide And that Night of Power how joyous,
When this patent of exemption New from Fortune's spite They gave me!

Lo, a voice from heav'n foretold me Of this fortune fair, what season
Patience to endure oppression With a constant spright They gave me.

From the mirror of her beauty's Praise mine eye shall never wander,
News therein since of the coming Of herself to sight They gave me.

If I hold my wish accomplished And heart-glad I am, what wonder?
Worthy was I and these favours, As an alms-of-right, They gave me.

All this honey and this sugar, From my pen that flow, reward is;
For my patience past, this sugar-Cane, wherewith I write, They gave me.

That same day I knew that victory I should win yet, when, with patience
And devotion 'gainst oppression To endure, the might They gave me.

Mine own courage and the prayërs Of the dawn-risers, deliv'rance
From the bond of Fate's affliction And the Days' despite they gave me.

Sugar of thy thanks strew, Hafiz, In thankoff'ring for that yonder
Lovely fair, so sweet of fashions, To my heart's delight They gave me.

“That same time when in the fetters Of thy tress I fell,” quoth Hafiz,
“Quittance from the bond of anguish And affliction's blight They gave me.”