| Who sweetheart kind and fair and mind Unracked of care and pain doth hold |
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| Out of all this world's rose-garden Us a rose-cheeked fair sufficeth |
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| From the Friend my dole is, My delight no less |
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| The Head of our purpose cleaves To the Loved One's threshold sill |
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| My heart, for desire of the visage so fair Of Ferrukh |
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| In the Friend's high places every Heart's initiate abideth |
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| Thy fair form on goodly fashion, O Beloved mine, They've stablished |
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| All the bulbul's thought his lover How the rose may be is |
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| Vouchsafed is the sight of the fair To me and her kiss and embrace, too |
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| Yonder swart-skinned fair, all sweetness That the world can show with her is |
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