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   Poem                                        grey = Comment text

 1 Pre   |           until I have torn from my breast the blue robe," by which
 2 III(*)|            laid the letter upon her breast. Wahb ibn Manabbih says
 3 XIII  |           secret lyre,~And still my breast heaves with last night's
 4 XXI   |             loyal heart, a tranquil breast,~Were all the riches of
 5 XXIII |          joumeyeth that lay upon my breast.~Not only did she lift my
 6 XXIII | splendour-with his torn~And jealous breast he dyes her petals red.~
 7 XXV   |        Trouble and sickness from my breast have flown,~Order and health
 8 XXVII |           wind,~So rose she from my breast and forth she sped.~Drunk
 9 XXXII |           thorns wound his faithful breast."~I will not mourn my woeful
10 XXXV  |             has made her lair in my breast,~And undisturbed she lies--
11 XLIII |           clasp me one night to thy breast,~And I, when the dawn shall