Classic Poem

There's no fair one in the city That my heart away shall carry;
Fate's my friend, if it elsewhither Me and my array shall carry.

Where's a merry, winsome comrade, To whose gen'rous ear the lover
Heart afire his thoughts and wishes All, without affray, shall carry?

Heedless, gardener, I see thee Of the coming of the autumn,
When thy rose from thee the scathing Windblast of decay shall carry.

Time the highwayman ne'er sleepeth; Trust him not; for off, to-morrow,
He what he, belike, forgotten Hath to take to-day shall carry.

In my fancy all these puppets Move I, so some man of insight
Yet abroad the name and mention, Haply, of the play shall carry.

What my heart of wit and learning Hath in forty years ingathered,
Yonder languorous narcissus Off, I fear, to prey shall carry.

Sorcery, be sure, availeth Not with miracle to match it;
What Samíri over Moses' Hand of white the sway shall carry?

Though the lurking-place of bowmen Is Love's highway whoso fareth
Well and wisely off the vantage From the foe in fray shall carry.

Still the way the crystal goblet On strait-heartedness forecloseth;
Set it not from hand; for sorrow's Flood it from thy way shall carry.

Hafiz, if the fair one's tipsy Eye thy life seek, clear the dwelling
Of all else and leave it empty, So this that away shall carry.