The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám

The rubaiyat of omar khayyam

I

Wake! For the Sun, who scatter’d into flightThe Stars before him from the Field of Night,Drives Night along with them from Heav’n, and strikesThe Sultán’s Turret with a Shaft of Light.

II

Before the phantom of False morning died,Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,“When all the Temple is prepared within,Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside?”

III

And, as the Cock crew, those who stood beforeThe Tavern shouted⁠—“Open then the Door!You know how little while we have to stay,And, once departed, may return no more.”

IV

Now the New Year reviving old Desires,The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,Where the White Hand of Moses on the BoughPuts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

V

Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,And Jamshýd’s Sev’n-ring’d Cup where no one knows;But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine,And many a Garden by the Water blows.

VI

And David’s lips are lockt; but in divineHigh-piping Pehleví, with “Wine! Wine! Wine!Red Wine!”⁠—the Nightingale cries to the RoseThat sallow cheek of hers t’ incarnadine.

VII

Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of SpringYour Winter-garment of Repentance fling:

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