| Yesternight the angels knocking At the winehouse-door I spied |
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| Skinker, youth's capital here come bring |
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| If it be granted me of Fate With yonder charmer to foregather |
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| To the new blown rose the bulbul Spake this word at break of day |
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| To me the East wind yesternight The tidings rare hath brought |
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| Friendship in no one I see: To friends of old date what hath happened? |
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| Cypress of lofty stature, goodly of gait |
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| Cupbearer, come! Lo, of desire for thy service I die |
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| Gone my heart and faith are and the charmer, Her despite 'gainst me to show, ariseth |
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| The Soul to life inclining, Without the Loved One's grace, hath not |
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