Why, All The Saints And Sages Who

Alas, That Spring Should Vanish With The Rose! That Youths Sweet-scented Manuscript Should Close!

Wake! For The Sun, Who Scatter'd Into Flight The Stars Before Him From The Field Of Night, Drives Night Along With Them From Heav'n, And Strikes The Sultan's Turret With A Shaft Of Light

I Hide My Grief, Just Like The Blessed Birds Hide Themselves When They Are Preparing To Die, My Love.

Realise This: One Day Your Soul Will Depart From Your Body And You Will Be Drawn Behind The Curtain That Floats Between Us And The Unknown. While You Wait For That Moment, Be Happy, Because You Don't Know Where You Came From And You Don't Know Where You Will Be Going.

The Revelations Of Devout And Learn'd Who Rose Before Us, And As Prophets Burn'd, Are All But Stories, Which, Awoke From Sleep They Told Their Comrades, And To Sleep Return'd.