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THE QUATRAINS OF
393.
We come and go, but for the gain, where is it?
And spin life's woof, but for the warp, where is it?
And many a righteous man has burned to dust
In heaven's blue rondure, but their smoke, where is it?
394.
Life's well-spring lurks within that lip of thine!
Let not the cup's lip touch that lip of thine!
Beshrew me, if I fail to drink his blood,
Tor who is he, to touch that Up of thine?
395.
Such as I am, Thy power created me,
Thy care hath kept me for a century!
Through all these years I make experiment,
If my sins or Thy mercy greater be.
393. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. So Ecclesiastes, "There is no remembrance of the wise, more than of the fool," "Smoke," i.e. trace.
