Persian Portraits: A Sketch of Persian History, Literature and Politics

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B. Quaritch, 1887 - 170 страница
 

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Страница 66 - With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow ; And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd — " I came like Water, and like Wind I go.
Страница 66 - Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain— This Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.
Страница 66 - Into this Universe, and Why not knowing Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing; And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.
Страница 66 - There was the Door to which I found no Key; There was the Veil through which I could not see: Some little talk awhile of Me and Thee There was — and then no more of Thee and Me.
Страница 43 - Praise, praise to Mahmud, who of like renown, In battle or the banquet, fills the throne; Lord of the realms of Chin and Hindustan, Sovereign and Lord of Persia and Turan, With his loud voice he rends the flintiest ear; On land a tiger fierce, untouched by fear, And on the wave, he seems the crocodile That prowls amidst the waters of the Nile. Generous and brave, his equal is unknown; In deeds of princely worth he stands alone. The infant in the cradle lisps his name; The world exults in Mahmud's...
Страница 64 - The lovely moon for thirty days Spreads radiant glory from afar: Her charms for ever night displays Crowned, like a queen, with many a star: Her seal-bearer is Heav'n, a band Of planets wait on her command. Day can but paint the skies with blue, Night's starry hosts amaze the view. Man measures time but by the moon; Night shrouds what day reveals too soon. Day is with toil and care oppressed, Night comes, and with her, gentle rest. Day, busy still, no praise can bring, All night the saints their...
Страница 55 - SWEET maid, if thou would'st charm my sight, And bid these arms thy neck infold ; That rosy cheek, that lily hand, • Would give thy poet more delight Than all Bocara's vaunted gold, Than all the gems of Samarcand.
Страница 55 - Boy, let yon liquid ruby flow, And bid thy pensive heart be glad, Whate'er the frowning zealots say : • Tell them, their Eden cannot show i A stream so clear as Rocnabad, A bower so sweet as Mosellay.
Страница 51 - Lady, shall I tell thee where Nature seems most blest and fair, Far above all climes beside ? 'Tis where those we love abide, And that little spot is best Which the loved one's foot hath pressed.
Страница 52 - One day, as I was in the bath, a friend of mine put into my hand a piece of scented clay. I took it, and said to it, Art thou musk or ambergris, for I am charmed with thy perfume...

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