Think, in this batterd Caravanserai
Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day,
after Sultéan with his Pomp
Abode his destined Hour, and went his way.
They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep:
Bahréam, that great Hunterthe wild Ass
Stamps oer his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.
I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Cæsar bled;
every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.
And this reviving Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean
lean upon it lightly! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!
Ah, my Belovàed, fill the Cup that clears
To-day of past Regrets and Future Fears:
To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterdays Sevn thousand Years.
For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest,
drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to rest.
And we, that now make merry in the Room
They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom,
must we beneath the Couch of Earth
Descendourselves to make a Couchfor whom?
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
unto Dust, and under Dust to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, andsans End!
Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,
And wash my Body whence the Life has died,
lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf,
By some not unfrequented Garden-side....
Yon rising Moon that looks for us again
How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;
hereafter rising look for us
Through this same Gardenand for one in vain!
And when like her, O Séakéi, you shall pass
Among the Guests star-scatterd on the Grass,
in your joyous errand reach the spot
Where I made Oneturn down an empty Glass!
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