THE TAVERN OF THE WEST
I well recall the days
That I spent in the Tavern of the West.
Its wine-bowls shine
Like Alexanders looking-glass.
Its Saqis eyes are as
Intoxicating as its wine,
And every glance of theirs conveys
A message to some drinkers breast.
But O it has no Moses to
No Abraham to undergo
Ordeals by fire.
There Intellect with careless ease
Robs Love of its entire
Possessions, and there is no heat
In its air of a fervent sigh.
No one is so intoxicated by
Its wine as to sway on his feet.