Summon me back when I would seek heart’s ease,

Travelling afar; what though Love’s countenance

Be turned full harsh and sorrowful on me,

I care not so that Time’s unfriendly glance

Still from my Lady’s beauty turned be.

Like Hafiz, drain the goblet cheerfully

While minstrels touch the lute and sweetly sing,

For all that makes thy heart rejoice in thee

Hangs of Life’s single, slender, silken string.

XXVII