Classic Poem

Where is it, righteousness, And I, poor sot, ah where?
Where is the path that joins This and that lot, ah where?

What hath devoutness to do And virtue with winebibbing?
Where is the preacher's drone And the wail of the rote, ah where?

My heart from the cloister-cell And hypocrisy's patch-coat turns:
Where is the wine unmixed And the Magians' grot, ah where?

Gone are the days of delight: Fair may their memory be!
Where is the languishing glance And the chiding, love-fraught, ah where?

What doth it profit the foe To look on the face of the Friend?
Where is the douted lamp And the sunlight hot, ah where?

Since that the salve of our eyes The dust of thy doorsill is,
Where wellaway! shall we go, Say, from this spot, ah where?

View not the peach of the chin; For see, in the way is the pit
Where in haste goest, heart, Prudence forgot, ah where?

Patience and fortitude Seek not from Hafiz, friend!
Fortitude, patience, sleep, Where are they, what? ah where?