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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529203" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To Hafiz</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=529203" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">THOUGH gifts like thine the fates gave not to me,<br>One thing, O Hafiz, we both hold in fee—<br>Nay, it holds us; for when the June wind blows<br>We both are slaves and lovers to the rose.<br>In vain the pale Circassian lily shows <br>Her face at her green lattice, and in vain<br>The violet beckons, with unveilëd face—<br>The bosom’s white, the lip’s light purple stain,<br>These touch our liking, yet no passion stir.<br>But when the rose comes, Hafiz—in that place <br>Where she stands smiling, we kneel down to her!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Thomas+Bailey+Aldrich">Thomas Bailey Aldrich</a></strong></div>

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