Explore "Odes. from the Persian" by George Borrow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
1. Boy, hand my friends the cup, 'tis time of roses now; / Midst roses let us break each penitential vow; / With shout and antic bound we'll in the garden stray; / When nightingales are heard, we'll rove where roses blow; / Here in this open spot fill, fill, and quaff away; / Midst roses here we stand a troop with hearts that glow; / The rose our long-miss'd friend retains in full array; / No fairer pearls than friends and cups the roses know; / Poor Hafiz loves the rose, and down his soul would lay, / With joy, to win the dust its guardian's foot below.
2. If shedding lovers' blood thou deem'st a matter slight, / No goodness I can plead to scare thee and affright, / O Thou, in whose black locks night's Genius stands confest, / Whose maiden cheek displays the morning's Master bright.