Like the wind-tost reed my breast Fann'd with hope is ne'er at rest; Throbbing, longing in these arms Close to strain her yielding charms.

Yes, my charmer, though I see
Thy heart courts no love with me,
Not for worlds, could they be mine,
Would I give a hair of thine.

Why, O Care, shall I in vain Strive to shun thy galling chain, When these strains still fail to save And make Hafiz more a slave.

THE COQUET.

LEILA, with too successful art,

Has spread for me the cruel snare; And now, when she has caught my heart, She laughs and leaves it to despair.

Thus the poor sparrow pants for breath,
Held captive by a playful boy,

And while it drinks the draught of death,
The thoughtless child looks on with joy.

Ah! were its fluttering pinions free,
Soon would it bid its chains adieu,
Or did the child its sufferings see,
He'd pity and relieve them too.

VERSES

Addressed by Waladata, daughter of Mohammed Almostakfi Billah, Khaliph of Spain, to some young Men who had pretended a Passion for herself and her Companions.

WHEN you told us our glances soft, timid and mild,

Could occasion such wounds in the heart,

Can ye wonder that yours, so ungovern'd and wild, Some wounds to our cheeks should impart?

The wounds on our cheeks are but transient, I own, With a blush they appear and decay;

But those on the heart, fickle youths, ye have shewn To be even more transient than they.

A GAZEL,

BY HAFIZ.

MINSTREL tune some novel lay,

Ever jocund, ever gay;

Call for heart-expanding wine,

Ever sparkling, ever fine.

Sit remov'd from prying eyes,— Love the game, the fair thy prize; Toying snatch the furtive bliss,

Eager look, and eager kiss;

Fresh and fresh repeat the freak,

Often give, and often take.

Can'st thou feed the hungering soul
Without drinking of the bowl?
Pour out wine; to her 'tis due,-
Love commands thee-Fill anew;

Drink her health, repeat her name,

Often, often do the same.

Frantic love more frantic grows,
Love admits of no repose;

Haste thou youth with silver feet,
Haste, the goblet bring, be fleet;

Fill again the luscious cup,
Fresh and fresh, come fill it up.

See yon angel of my heart

Forms for me with witching art,

Ornaments of varied taste,

Fresh and graceful, fresh and chaste.

Gentle zephyr, should'st thou roam,
By my lovely charmer's home,
In soft whispers oft repeat
Tales of Hafiz, whisper'd sweet,
Whisper o'er and o'er again.
Hafiz' love, and Hafiz' strain.

A GAZEL,

BY THE SAME.

THOUGH I have felt a lover's woes,

Ask me not what they were; Though absence robs me of repose,

Ask not to know my care.

No longer since than yesternight,
The fair in murmurs sweet

Blest me with accents of delight,

Which bid me not repeat.