XXXIX How long, how long, in infinite Pursuit XL my You know, my Friends, how long since in House XLI 6 For Is' and 'IS-NOT' though with Rule and Line, I yet in all I only cared to know, XLII And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, XLIII The Grape that can with Logic absolute XLIV The mighty Mahmúd, the victorious Lord, Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul XLV But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht, Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee. XLVI For in and out, above, about, below, 'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, Play'd in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go. XLVII And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press, End in the Nothing all Things end in-YesThen fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what Thou shalt be-Nothing-Thou shalt not be less. XLVIII While the Rose blows along the River Brink, With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink : And when the Angel with his darker Draught Draws up to Thee-take that, and do not shrink. XLIX 'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays : Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays. L The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes, And He that toss'd Thee down into the Field, He knows about it all-He knows-HE knows! LI The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, LII And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky, LIII With Earth's first Clay They did the last Man's knead, And then of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: Yea, the first Morning of Creation wrote What the last Dawn of Reckoning shall read. LIV I tell Thee this-When, starting from the Goal, Of Heav'n Parwin and Mushtara they flung, LV The Vine had struck a Fibre; which about Of my Base Metal may be filed a Key, And this I know LVI whether the one True Light, Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite, One glimpse of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright. LVII Oh Thou, who didst with Pitfall and with Gin Thou wilt not with Predestination round LVIII Oh, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man KÚZA-NÁMA LIX Listen again. One evening at the Close In that old Potter's Shop I stood alone LX And, strange to tell, among the Earthen Lot And suddenly one more impatient cried- My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en, That He who subtly wrought me into Shape Should stamp me back to common Earth again.' LXII Another said—' Why, ne'er a peevish Boy, 'Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy ; Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love 'And Fancy, in an after Rage destroy!' LXIII None answer'd this; but after Silence spake A Vessel of a more ungainly Make: They sneer at me for leaning all awry; 6 What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake ? 2 LXIV Said one-- Folks of a surly Tapster tell, And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell ; 'They talk of some strict Testing of us-Pish! 'He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well.' LXV Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh, 'My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry: But, fill me with the old familiar Juice, 'Methinks I might recover by and by!' LXVI So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, And then they jogg'd each other, 'Brother, Brother! 'Hark to the Porter's Shoulder-knot a-creaking! ' LXVII Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, LXVIII That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare |