32

Whether the world be foul or fair,
With a smile fare on;
Forth from the nest, the cage, the snare,
The bower, be gone!

Though stranger thou art, and dost not know
How the way doth wend,
In a bold, familiar manner go
In the lane of the Friend.

Each breath that thou drawest, differently
The world adorn;
Within this ancient hostelry
Swift as Time be borne.

If Gabriel lay his hand on thy rein,
And the Houris, too,
With a loving glance pass on again
As fair charmers do.