Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám in English Verse, Edward Fitzgerald: The Text of the Fourth Edition, Followed by that of the First; with Notes Showing the Extent of His Indebtedness to the Persian Original; and a Biographical Preface |
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Common terms and phrases
answer'd Arabic Attár Bahrám better Bird blows blue dome Bowl buried Calcutta clay cries dánad Dawn didst Divinité Divinity Door drink Dust Earth earthen English Euphranor Fate fill the Cup Firdausi Fire of Spring Fitzgerald fling flung Fourth edition friends Garden gone Grape Háfiz hand Hátim Heaven Hither Honour Hudhud Illustrated London Imam Imam Reza Imamzadah Jamshyd Kaikobád Khayam KHAYYÁM OF NAISHÁPÚR live Lord Lucretius Mahmúd Malik Shah Mehmandar Mons Moon Muezzin mystical never Nicolas Nishapur Nizám-ul-Mulk o'er Omar Khayyám Omar's Oriental original Pantheism Pehlevi Persian Poets Persian text poems poetical Polonius Potter printed Quatrain Ramazán red The Rose rendered Rose Rubáiyát Rustum says scatter'd Spring stanza Súfi Sultán taste Tavern tell thee Thou Throne of Saturn tion TO-DAY TO-MORROW tomb of Omar translated verse Vessel Vine whence Whinfield Wine XXVIII XXXVII
Popular passages
Page 109 - Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?
Page 90 - Into this Universe, and Why not knowing Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing; And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.
Page 87 - Think, in this batter'd caravanserai Whose portals are alternate night and day, How Sultan after Sultan with his pomp Abode his destined hour and went his way. They say the lion and the lizard keep The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep : And Bahram, that great hunter — the wild ass Stamps o'er his head, but cannot break his sleep.
Page 89 - Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend ; Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans End ! XXIV.
Page 57 - Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say; Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday? And this first Summer month that brings the Rose Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.
Page 60 - I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.
Page 97 - The Vine had struck a fibre: which about If clings my Being — let the Dervish flout; Of my Base metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without.
Page 98 - Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake: For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man Is blacken'd — Man's Forgiveness give — and take!
Page 96 - Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays: Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays.
Page 91 - Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.