No barbèd Anguish chooses long to stay,
And only in the Pipe is Friendship
found That waxes Strong and Stronger day by day.



XLVIII



Come, rest your Head if Earth rotative seems
And close your Lids from these o'er wakeful Gleams -
Although your Palate cringe you shall not shrink
Within the Kitchen of the House of Dreams.



XLIX



Murkly I muse on that transcendent State
Where all my Pasts within the Future wait -
If I for Heavenly Marriages am marked,
Oh what a Turk I'll be beyond the Gate!



L