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'Tis but a tent where takes his one day's
Whose secret Presence, through Creation's rest
veins A sultán to the realm of Death addrest: The Sultán rises, and the dark Ferrásh Running, quicksilver-like eludes
your Strikes and
pains; prepares it for another
Taking all shapes from Máh to Máhi; Guest.
They change and perish all, — but He And fear not lest Existence closing your
remains; Account, and mine, should know the like no
A moment guessed – then back behind the The Eternal Sáki from that bowl has
Immerst of darkness round the Drama Millions of bubbles like us, and will pour.
rolled Which, for the pastime of Eternity,
He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold. When You and I behind the Veil are past,
185 Oh, but the long, long while the World
But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor shall last,
Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Which of our coming and departure door,
You gaze Today, while You are YouAs the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast. how then
Tomorrow, when You shall be You no
more? A moment's halt, a momentary taste Of Being from the Well amid the Waste not your hour; nor, in the vain Waste,
pursuit And lo! the phantom Caravan has Of This and That, endeavor and dispute: reached
Better be jocund with the fruitful The Nothing it set out from ... Oh, grape make haste!
Than sadden after none, or bitter, fruit.
You know, my Friends, with what a brave Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who
dare I made a second marriage in my house, Blaspheme the twisted tendril Divorced old barren Reason from my snare? bed,
A blessing, we should use it, should And took the Daughter of the Vine to
we not? spouse.
And if a curse,
- why, then, Who set it there?