Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám |
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Common terms and phrases
Arabic ASTRONOMER Attár Bahrám BERNARD QUARITCH blows Book Boston Bowl cents Clay Cloth cries Darkness divine Door drink Dust Earth EDWARD FITZGERALD Edward Heron-Allen ENGLISH VERSE Fcap Fcap 8vo fill the Cup flaming shoulders Fourth edition Francis Hindes Groome Garden Gilt top Grape GROLIER CLUB Háfiz hand-made paper Heav'n Introduction Jamshyd Japan vellum Kaikobád King letter live London Lucretius LXIII LXVII LXXIV LXXV Malik Shah Monsieur Nicolas MOSHER Naishápúr Nathan Haskell Dole Nightingale numbered Octavo OMAR KHAYYÁM Omar's Paradise Persian POET OF PERSIA Portland Potter predestin'd Privately printed quatrains Ramazán RENDERED INTO ENGLISH reprint Rose RUBÁLYÁT OF OMAR SECOND EDITION Soul Spring Square 12mo Súfi Sultán Tavern Tennyson Thackeray THEE Thou TO-DAY To-morrow translation vellum VERSE BY EDWARD Vessel Vine whence Whither William Aldis Wright Wind Wine wrapper XLVII XVIII XXXIX York
Popular passages
Page 105 - 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!
Page 88 - 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! Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare, And those that after a TO-MORROW stare, A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries 'Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There!
Page 101 - As under cover of departing Day Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazan away, Once more within the Potter's house alone I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay.
Page 99 - With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed : And the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.
Page 86 - The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Turns Ashes — or it prospers; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, Lighting a little hour or two — is gone.
Page 55 - The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
Page 85 - A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness — Oh ! Wilderness were Paradise enow ! XII " How sweet is mortal Sovrainty ! " — think some ; Others " How blest the Paradise to come!
Page 32 - 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 26 - And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted — "Open then the Door! You know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more.
Page 24 - Awake! for morning in the bowl of night Has flung the stone that puts the stars to flight: And lo! the hunter of the east has caught The sultan's turret in a noose of light.