Oft shall war end, and peace return,
And cities rise where cities burn,

Ere one man my hill shall climb,

Who can turn the golden rhyme;
Let them manage how they may,
Heed thou only Saadi's lay.

Seek the living among the dead:
Man in man is imprisoned.
Barefooted Dervish is not poor,

If fate unlock his bosom's door.

So that what his eye

hath seen

His tongue can paint, as bright, as keen,

And what his tender heart hath felt,

With equal fire thy heart shall melt.

For, whom the muses shine upon,

And touch with soft persuasion,

His words like a storm-wind can bring

Terror and beauty on their wing;

In his every syllable

Lurketh nature veritable;

And though he speak in midnight dark,

In heaven, no star; on earth, no spark;

Yet before the listener's eye

Swims the world in ecstasy,

The forest waves, the morning breaks,

The pastures sleep, ripple the lakes,

Leaves twinkle, flowers like persons be,
And life pulsates in rock or tree.

Saadi! so far thy words shall reach ;

Suns rise and set in Saadi's speech.

And thus to Saadi said the muse;

Eat thou the bread which men refuse;

Flee from the goods which from thee flee; Seek nothing; Fortune seeketh thee.

Nor mount, nor dive; all good things keep

The midway of the eternal deep;
Wish not to fill the isles with eyes
To fetch thee birds of paradise;
On thine orchard's edge belong
All the brass of plume and song;
Wise Ali's sunbright sayings pass
For proverbs in the market-place;
Through mountains bored by regal art

Toil whistles as he drives his cart.
Nor scour the seas, nor sift mankind,

A poet or a friend to find;

Behold, he watches at the door,

Behold his shadow on the floor.

Open innumerable doors,

The heaven where unveiled Allah pours

The flood of truth, the flood of good,

The seraph's and the cherub's food;

Those doors are men; the pariah kind
Admits thee to the perfect Mind.
Seek not beyond thy cottage wall

Redeemer that can yield thee all.
While thou sittest at thy door,
On the desert's yellow floor,
Listening to the gray-haired crones,
Foolish gossips, ancient drones,—
Saadi, see, they rise in stature
To the height of mighty nature,
And the secret stands revealed
Fraudulent Time in vain concealed,
That blessed gods in servile masks
Plied for thee thy household tasks.

HOLIDAYS.

FROM fall to spring the russet acorn,

Fruit beloved of maid and boy,

Lent itself beneath the forest

To be the children's toy.

Pluck it now; in vain: thou canst not,

Its root has pierced yon shady mound, Toy no longer, it has duties;

It is anchored in the ground.

Year by year the rose-lipped maiden,
Play-fellow of young and old,

Was frolic sunshine, dear to all men,
More dear to one than mines of gold.

Whither went the lovely hoyden?—
Disappeared in blessed wife,

Servant to a wooden cradle,

Living in a baby's life.

Still thou playest ;-short vacation
Fate grants each to stand aside;

Now must thou be man and artist;

'Tis the turning of the tide.

PAINTING AND SCULPTURE.

THE sinful painter drapes his goddess warm,
Because she still is naked, being drest;
The godlike sculptor will not so deform

Beauty, which bones and flesh enough invest.