The heavenly Sage, whose wit exceeds compare,
Counteth each vein, and numbereth every hair;
Men you may cheat by hypocritic arts,
But how cheat Him to whom all hearts are bare?

177. C. L. N. A. I. J.

178.

Ah! wine lends wings to many a weary wight,
And beauty spots to ladies' faces bright;
All Ramazan I have not drunk a drop,
Thrice welcome, then, O Bairam's blessed night!

178. Bairam, the feast on the 1st Shawwal, after Ramazan. In line 2 Khirad seems wrong, the rhyme would suggest Kharo?

179.

All night in deep bewilderment I fret,
With tear-drops big as pearls my breast is wet;
I cannot fill my cranium with wine,
How can it hold wine, when 'tis thus upset?

179. C. L. N. A. I. Note tashdid of durr dropped.

180.