The secret of the world thou shalt not learn,
And yet behind the veil Love’s fire may burn—
Weep’st thou? let hope return and weep no more!
To-day may pass, to-morrow pass, before
The turning wheel give me my heart’s desire;
Heaven’s self shall change, and turn not evermore
The universal wheel of Fate in ire.
Oh Pilgrim nearing Mecca’s holy fane,
The thorny maghilan wounds thee in vain,
The desert blooms again—oh, weep no more!