LXIII
Oh threats of hell and hopes of paradise!
One thing is certain this life flies;
One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;
The flower that is once blown forever dies.
XXXVII
Ah! fill the cup:- what boots it to repeat
How Time is slipping underneath our feet:
Unborn To-morrow, and dead YESTERDAY
Whyfret about them if To-day be sweet!
XXXIV
Then to this earthern Bowl did I adjourn
My Lip the secret Well of Life to learn:
And Lip to Lip it murmur'd-"While you live
Drink!- for once dead you never shall return".
XXXI
Upfrom Earth's centre through the Seventh Gate
I rose, and on the throne ofSaturn sate,
And many knots inravl'd by the Road
But not the Knot of Human Death and fate.
XX
Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
To-dat of past Regrets and future fears-
To-morrow? -Why
, To-morrow i may be
Myself with yesterday's sev'n Thousand Years.
XXIII
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend:
Dust to Dust, and under Dust ,to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End.
XXV
Why, all the Saints and sages who discuss'd
Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust
Like foolish Prophets forth; their words to Scorn
Are scatter'd , and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.
XXXII
There was a Door to which I found no Key:
There was a Veil past which I could not see:
Some talk awhile of Me and Thee
There seem'd- and then no more of Thee and me.
From "The Rubiat Of Omar Khayaam." First edition.