That her flight is a Grace & our pursuit but a Fate

That her flight is a Grace & our pursuit but a Fate
Wine's river, in dark caverns, circles Taverns whose lighting we await
As the winds woo bitter waters to a like blighting retrace
 Memory's black fire consumes the mirror of her Face

Envoi- 

Prince! If the Saqi's right hand, most graciously, Mercy's cup extends
'Tis so her left hand slap thee silly to the merriment of her friends