Prologue

Unfold, O God, the bud of hope : disclose
From Thine eternal Paradise one rose
Whose breath may flood my brain with odour, while
The bud’s leaf-liplets make my garden smile.
O grant that. I, in this drear world of woe,
The boundless riches of Thy grace may know.
May gratitude to Thee my thoughts employ ;
To sing Thy praises be my task and joy.
Vouchsafe a prosperous day from those that are
Best on the roll of Wisdom’s calendar.
Send forth Thy soldier to the war, and teach
His lips to conquer in the field of speech.
Grant that my tongue may weigh the pearls, O Lord,
Which Thy dear bounty in my heart has stored ;
And let the fragrance Thou hast lent my muse
Its musky breath from Kaf to Kaf diffuse.
Lips sweet as sugar on my pen bestow,
And from my book let streams of odour flow.
In this world’s inn, where sweetest songs abound,
I hear no prelude to the strain I sound.
The guests have quaffed their wine and passed away ;
Their cups were empty and they would not stay.
ISTo sage, no stripling — not a hand ere mine—
Has held this goblet of poetic wine.
Rise, Jami, rise: thy fear behind thee cast,
And, be it clear or dull, bring forth the wine thou hast.