And we, that now make merry in the Room They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom, Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth Descend, ourselves to make a Couch -- for whom? Alike for those who for To-day prepare, And those that after some To-morrow stare Ah, make the most of what we may yet spend, Before we too into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie; Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and -- sans End! Alike for those who for To-day prepare, And those that after some To-morrow stare A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries “Fools! Your Reward is neither Here nor There!“ Alike for those who for To-day prepare, And those that after some To-morrow stare Poetry of the Afghans: Æabd-ur-Raḥmān Martins Ate, Black Sea Records Ltd.
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