"Pink cheeks and eyes enpupil'd black have dealt me sore despight; * And whenas wake overpowered sleep my patience fled in fright: The fair and sleek-limbed maidens hard of heart withal laid waste * My very bones till not a breath is left for man to sight: Houris, who fare with gait of grace as roes o'er sandy-mound: * Did Allah's saints behold their charms they'd doat thereon forthright; Faring as fares the garden breeze that bloweth in the dawn. * For love of them a sore unrest and troubles rack my sprite: I hung my hopes upon a maid, a loveling fair of them, * For whom my heart still burns with lowe in Laz á -hell they light;-- A dearling soft of sides and haught and graceful in her gait, * Her grace is white as morning, but her hair is black as night: She stirreth me! But ah, how many
