Now that 1000 hands are uplifted
Save ruby wine take nothing from the hands of drunkards
Arise & come for the rose has blossomed with joy
A few days pluck them yourself from the garden


P 668

Now that the Thousand-Tales telleth her tale of love to the treen,
Look thou take nought but the winecup from lovelings of languorous mien:
Arise, for the rosebud of gladness hath flowered forth into sheen;
A day or two take thou thy portion of ease in the garden green.

Th 501

Now that the nightingale to song doth wake,
Do naught save ruby wine with revellers take;
Arise and come ! in gladness blooms the rose;
These tew days mid the flowers your joyance make!

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