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bodymatter z3998:fiction"> LXXXVIII

“Why,” said another, “Some there are who tell
Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell
The luckless Pots he marr’d in making⁠—Pish!
He’s a Good Fellow, and ’twill all be well.”

LXXXIX

“Well,” murmur’d one, “Let whoso make or buy,
My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry:
But fill me with the old familiar Juice,
Methinks I might recover by and by.”

XC

So while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
The little Moon look’d in that all were seeking:
And then they jogg’d each other, “Brother! Brother!
Now for the Porter’s shoulder-knot a-creaking!”

XCI

Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,
And wash the Body whence the Life has died,
And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf,
By some not unfrequented Garden-side.

XCII

That ev’n my buried Ashes such a snare
Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air
As not a True-believer passing by
But shall be overtaken unaware.

XCIII

Indeed the Idols I have loved so long
Have done my credit in this World much wrong:
Have drown’d my Glory in a shallow Cup
And sold my Reputation for a Song.

XCIV

Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before
I swore⁠—but was I sober when I swore?
And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand
My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore.

XCV

And much as Wine has play’d the Infidel,
And robb’d me of my Robe of Honour⁠—Well,
I wonder often what the Vintners buy
One half so precious as the stuff they sell.

XCVI

Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
That Youth’s sweet-scented manuscript should close!
The Nightingale that in the branches sang,
Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows!

XCVII

Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield
One glimpse⁠—if dimly, yet indeed, reveal’d,
To which the fainting Traveller might spring,
As springs the trampled herbage of the field!

XCVIII

Would but some wingéd Angel ere too late
Arrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate,
And make the stern Recorder otherwise
Enregister, or quite obliterate!

XCIX

Ah, Love! could you and I with Him conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits⁠—and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire!

C

Yon rising Moon that looks for us again⁠—
How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;
How oft hereafter rising look for us
Through this same Garden⁠—and for one in vain!

CI

And when like her, oh, Sákí, you shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scatter’d on the Grass,
And in your Joyous errand reach the spot
Where I made One⁠—turn down an empty Glass!

Tamám

Colophon

The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
is based on the poetry of
Omar Khayyám
and was compiled and translated from Persian in 1859 by
Edward FitzGerald.

This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
Alex Cabal,
and is based on a transcription produced in 2011 by
Fritz Ohrenschall, Sania Ali Mirza, and The Online Distributed Proofreading Team
for
Project Gutenberg
and on digital scans available at
Google Books.

The cover page is adapted from
Quatrain XI,
a painting completed in 1909 by
Edmund Dulac.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
typefaces created in 2014 and 2009 by
The League of Moveable Type.

The first edition of this ebook was released on
May 25, 2014, 12:00 a.m.
You can check for updates to this ebook, view its revision history, or download it for different ereading systems at
standardebooks.org/ebooks/omar-khayyam/the-rubaiyat-of-omar-khayyam/edward-fitzgerald.

The volunteer-driven Standard Ebooks project relies on readers like you to submit typos, corrections, and other improvements. Anyone can contribute at standardebooks.org.

Uncopyright

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