Now wherefore hast thou tears innumerous?
Hast thou not known all sorrow and delight
Wandering of yore in forests rumorous,
Beneath the flaming eyeballs of the night,
And as a slave been wakeful in the halls
Of Rajas and Mahrajas beyond number?
Hast thou not ruled among the gilded walls?
Hast thou not known a Raja’s dreamless slumber?
Hast thou not sat of yore upon the knees
Of myriads of beloveds, and on thine
Have not a myriad swayed below strange trees
In other lives? Hast thou not quaffed old wine
By tables that were fallen into dust
Ere yonder palm commenced his thousand years?
Is not thy body but the garnered rust
Of ancient passions and of ancient fears?
Then wherefore fear the usury of Time,
Or Death that cometh with the next life-key?
Nay, rise and flatter her with golden rhyme,
For as things were so shall things ever be.