And surely will reveal that longer day."


XLIX

I shook the trees of knowledge. Ah! the fruit
Was fair upon the bleakness of the soil.
I filled a hundred vessels with my spoil,
And then I rested from the grand pursuit.


L

Alas! I took me servants: I was proud
Of prose and of the neat, the cunning rhyme,
But all their inclination was the crime
Of scattering my treasure to the crowd.


LI

And yet--and yet this very seed I throw
May rise aloft, a brother of the bird,
Uncaring if his melodies are heard--
Or shall I not hear anything below?


LII

The glazier out of sounding Erzerûm,