300
THE QUATRAINS OF
447.
My heart is weary of hypocrisy,
Cupbearer, bring some wine, I beg of thee!
This hooded cowl and prayer-mat pawn for wine,
Then will I boast me in security.
448.
Audit yourself, your true account to frame,
See! you go empty, as you empty came;
You say, "I will not drink and peril life,"
But, drink or no, you must die all the same!
449.
Open the door! entrance who procurest,
And guide the way, Thou of guides thesurest!
Directors born of men shall not direct me,
Their counsel comes to naught, but Thou endurest!
447. N.
448. C. L. N. A. I. In line 2, scan áwardĭyŏ.
