{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3652", "width": "2552", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "Glass\\nBook.\\nGojpghtN\\n\\\\Ro_oJ\\nCOEXRI6HT DEPOSIT.", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "HE RUBAIYAT\\nOF OMAR\\nK H A Y Y A M\\nComprising the METRICAL\\nTRANS LAT IONS\\nBy EDWARD FITZGERALD E. H.\\nWHINFIELD And the Prose Version of\\nJUSTIN HUNTLY MCCARTHY\\nWith an Appendix showing the Variations\\nin the First Three Editions of FitzGerald s\\nrendering Edited, with an Introduction by\\nJESSIE B. RITTENHOUSE\\nBOSTON LITTLE, BROWN,\\nAND COMPANY m^CCCC", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0009.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "Copyright, 1900, ffy\\nLITTLE, BROWN\\nAND COMPANY\\nS37T9\\nj v... CWltf Kfctt:*ED\\nOCT 11 1900\\nCopynpM entry\\n|Ocfc\\\\ A \\\\uv c H\u00c2\u00ab.\\nBtPfW COPY.\\n[Jfitvterqri to\\nOKDfc^ DIVISION,\\nA*\\nUniversity Press John Wilson\\nand Son Cambridge, U.S.A.", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0010.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "TABLE OF CONTENTS\\nPage\\nNTRODUCTION\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Jessie B. RUtenhouse vii\\nTHE RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nTo Omar Khayyam Andrew Lang xxxvii\\nOmar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia i\\nEdward FitzGerald s Version 19\\nNotes by Edward FitzGerald 45\\nVariations in the Text of the First, Second and Third Editions\\nof FitzGerald s Translation 52\\nTHE RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nOmar Khayyam Justin Hardly McCarthy 69\\nJustin Huntly McCarthy s Version 71\\nTHE QUATRAINS OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nOn Reading the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam in a Kentish Rose\\nGarden mathilde Blind 149\\nE. H. Whinfield s Version 151\\nAPPENDIX\\nComparative Stanzas 227\\nBibliography 233", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0011.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0012.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nIF Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the artist-poet and mystic,\\nhad not been lounging one day about the book-\\nstalls of Piccadilly, dipping now into the far-\\nthing and now into the penny box, in search of\\ntreasure, the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam would\\ndoubtless have sunk still deeper under the dusty piles\\nof unsalable old books and waited another decade for\\na discoverer.\\nIt was already wearing on to a decade since the little\\nquarto pamphlet in its brown paper wrappers Beg-\\ngarly disguise as to paper and print, but magnificent\\nvesture of verse had been issued from the press of\\nMr. Bernard Quaritch at the sum of five shillings, and,\\nfailing of buyers, had fallen by natural stages to the\\nignominy of the penny box.\\nThe translator had given the two hundred copies as\\na present to the publisher, a generosity not likely to be\\nappreciated, in view of its results, and had retained\\nfifty copies for distribution among his friends but as\\nif, on second thought, affrighted at his own boldness,\\nonly three of the fifty found their way beyond the\\nstudy shelves.\\nCowell, to whom I sent a copy, says FitzGerald in one of his\\nletters, was naturally alarmed at it he being a very religious man\\nnor have I given any other copy but to George Borrow, to whom I\\nhad once lent the Persian, and to old Donne, when he was down here\\nthe other day, to whom I was showing a passage in another book,\\nwhich brought my old Omar up.\\nvii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0013.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nWhether or not the pamphlet that Rossetti bore\\nhome from Piccadilly was the first that had been\\nrescued from the penny box, it was at least the first\\nthat had made a personal appeal to its buyer. All the\\nimagination of the poet, and his circle of dream-sown\\nspirits, was quickened by it, and in that brotherhood of\\nartists and mystics, styled the Pre-Raphaelites, the\\nstudy of the Rubaiyat grew into a cult and Omar\\ncame at last into his own.\\nMost enthusiastic of this band of friends, and des-\\ntined to do most for the vogue of Omar, were the poet\\nSwinburne, and the future Oriental scholar, Captain\\nRichard Burton. To Swinburne, aglow by tempera-\\nment with the colour, passion, and imagery of the East-\\nern thought, Omar became a transfused self, so\\ndominating his fancy that hie began to write in the\\nOmaric metre and to Captain, afterward Sir Richard,\\nBurton, he spoke with equal sympathy, so that in the\\nLay of the Higher Law we find an exceedingly\\nKhayyamesque atmosphere, and the free use of\\nseveral of Omar s best known symbols.\\nThat Omar should fast make his way when once\\ndiscovered, was in the natural course of things, and in\\n1868 a new edition was forthcoming, expanded from\\nseventy-five to one hundred and ten quatrains, with\\nthe original renderings much modified, and somewhat\\nweakened, perhaps, as twice-wrought things are likely\\nto be. The new quatrains, however, were strong\\nviii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0014.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nenough to compensate for the loss of fire and verve in\\nthe remodelled ones, and the Omaric cult developed and\\nspread like an infection but the translator, the almost\\nshy recluse, who took as much pains to avoid fame\\nas others did to seek it, remained behind his veil of\\nanonymity, and it was known to very few who delighted\\nin the Rubaiyat, by whom they had been Rendered\\ninto English Verse.\\nIn 1863 Mr. Ruskin intrusted to Mrs. Burne-Jones,\\nas being the wife of a Pre-Raphaelite, among whom\\nthe Persian quatrains had first been known, a letter\\naddressed, To the Translator of the Rubaiyat of\\nOmar; but it would appear that she herself was no\\nmore enlightened upon the matter, for after keeping\\nthe letter nearly ten years, she handed it to Mr. Charles\\nEliot Norton, who had written in the North American\\nReMeiv for October 1869 a critique upon the second edi-\\ntion of the Rubaiyat. If the name of the translator\\nwas known to Mr. Norton at that time, at least his\\nlocal habitation was not, and he in turn sent the\\nletter to Thomas Carlyle, who, after a full ten years\\ninterval from the original date, transmitted it to Edward\\nFitzGerald.\\nThe letter of Carlyle to FitzGerald, with the Ruskin\\nand the Norton inclosures, is interesting and charac-\\nteristic\\nChelsea, 14th April, 1873.\\nDear FitzGerald, Mr. Norton, the writer of that note, is a distin-\\nguished American (co-editor for a long time of the North American\\nix", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0015.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nReview), an extremely amiable, intelligent, and worthy man, with\\nwhom I had some pleasant walks, dialogues, and other communica-\\ntions of late months, in the course of which he brought to my knowl-\\nedge, for the first time, your notable Omar Khayyam, and insisted\\non giving me a copy from the third edition, which I now possess, and\\nduly prize. From him, too, by careful cross-questioning, I identified\\nbeyond dispute the hidden FitzGerald, the translator; and, indeed,\\nfound that his complete silence and unique modesty in regard to said\\nmeritorious and successful performance was simply a feature of my\\nown Edward F. The translation is excellent the book itself a kind\\nof jewel in its way. I do Norton s message without the least delay,\\nas you perceive. Ruskin s message to you passes through my hands\\nsealed. I am ever your affectionate\\nT. CARLYLE.\\nBut if the discovery of FitzGerald by the public was\\nan accident, no less was the discovery of Omar by\\nFitzGerald himself an accident. Genius stumbles often\\nupon its destined treasure when faring upon some other\\nquest and the quest with the gentle FitzGerald was\\nfellowship\\nI amuse myself, he wrote to Frederick Tennyson in 1853, with\\npoking out some Persian, which E. Cowell would inaugurate me with\\nI go on with it because it is a point in common with him and enables\\nus to study a little together.\\nHis first acquaintance was with Hafiz and Sadi, such\\nexamples of their art as are illustrative of the Persian\\nvalues but probably from hesitancy to encroach upon\\nthe work of his friend Cowell, who was translating\\nHafiz, as well as from over-modesty in his estimate\\nof himself, he did not at first attempt so ambitious a\\nflight, but addressed himself instead to Jami, whose\\nx", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0016.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nSalaman and Absal he transferred, without the loss\\nof Oriental color, to our somewhat colorless tongue, in\\na manner that merits a reading and a comment that it\\nhas not received, especially in the light of its effect\\nupon the subsequent rendering of the Rubaiyat. In\\nreading Jami, FitzGerald s hand was broken in to his\\nart, and the essence of the art itself so infused with his\\nown thought that it became no longer art, but tempera-\\nment, and spoke in the translation of Omar as if an\\noriginal word. Jami was a Sufi, and the spirituality of\\nhis verse is in striking contrast to the materiality of\\nOmar but there is a similarity of phrase, and even at\\ntimes of spirit, that shows what a preparation for the\\nrendering of the one would be the rendering of the\\nother. As, for illustration, Jami says to the Divine\\nLeave me room\\nOn that Divan which leaves no room for Twain\\nLest, like the simple Arab in the tale,\\nI grow perplext, Oh God twixt Me and Thee\\nIf this Spirit that inspires me, whence\\nIf Thou then what this sensual Impotence?\\nIs this not in the mood and manner of Omar and\\nalthough Jami believed in\\nReason that resolves the knot of either world,\\nAnd sees beyond the Veil,\\nwhile Omar declares\\nThere was a Veil past which I could not see,\\nthe essential matter is that FitzGerald brought to\\nOmar a perfected touch from the skill with which he\\nxi", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0017.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nhad strung the loose pearls of Jami on the thread of\\nallegory. Certain sources of FitzGerald s inspiration\\nhave been discovered in Attar and Hafiz, but they are\\nnone the less to be found in Jami.\\nSoon after the publication of Salaman and Absal,\\nMr. Cowell removed to Calcutta, where he had been\\nappointed Professor of History at the Presidency Col-\\nlege, and in the letters that passed between the friends\\nduring the subsequent months of 1856, we begin to find\\na mention of Omar, who was just beginning to make\\nhis appeal to FitzGerald. First, of the copy of the\\nBodleian manuscript, which FitzGerald made (from the\\ncopy transcribed for him originally by Prof. Cowell)\\nand sent with his compliments to Garcin de Tassy, the\\nFrench student of Oriental literature, who, as soon as\\nhe had familiarized himself a bit with it, hastened to\\nwrite a paper upon Omar for the Journal Asiztique, thus\\nwinning to France the credit of an earlier acquaintance\\nwith the old Persian. It must be acknowledged, how-\\never, that he first sent a note to FitzGerald proposing\\nin his paper to mention both the researches of himself\\nand Prof. Cowell into the Persian literature, but again\\nFitzGerald s modesty prompted him to refuse the\\nmention. In a letter to Cowell he says, referring to\\nde Tassy\\nHe proposes his writing an article in the Journal Asiedique on it in\\nwhich he will honourably mention E. B. C. and E. F. G. I now\\nwrite to deprecate all this, putting it on the ground (and a fair one)\\nxii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0018.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nthat we do not yet know enough of the matter that I do not wish E.\\nB. C. to be made answerable for errors which E. F. G. (the copist\\nmay have made and that E. F. G. neither merits nor desires any\\nhonourable mention as a Persian scholar, being none.\\nAfter de Tassy had written his paper, in which there\\nis every reason to infer that the discovery of the Bod-\\nleian manuscript was his own, he writes to FitzGerald\\nthat he has read it before the Persian Ambassador and\\nhis suite, who were much pleased with his quotations.\\nSo you see, he adds, I have done the part of an\\nill subject in helping France to ingratiate herself with\\nPersia when England might have had the start.\\nThere is something to be said, however, for his frank-\\nness, as well as for the alertness of the French ambition.\\nIn the meantime, Edward FitzGerald, in the ease\\nand picturesqueness of his country life, was shaping\\ninto exquisite form the Persian quatrains, by repeating\\nthem aloud, to test their music and strength, on his\\nsolitary walks. Such pictures as these appear from\\ntime to time in his letters to his beloved Cowell\\nWhen in Bedfordshire, I put away almost all books, except Omar\\nKhayyam, which I could not help looking over in a paddock covered\\nwith buttercups and brushed by a delicious breeze, while a dainty\\nracing filly of W. Browne s came startling up to wonder and sniff\\nabout me.\\nYou would be sorry, too, to think that Omar breathes a sort of\\nconsolation to me! Poor fellow; I think of him and Oliver Basselin\\nand Anacreon; lighter shadows among the shades, perhaps, over\\nwhich Lucretius presides so grimly.\\nxiii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0019.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nIn a later letter we come upon this charming pas-\\nsage:\\nJune over! a thing I think of with Omar-like sorrow, and the roses\\nhere are blowing and going as abundantly as even in Persia. I\\nam still at Geldestone, and still looking at Omar by an open window,\\nwhich gives over a greener landscape than yours.\\nDuring the preceding month Professor Cowell had\\nsent him a copy of the Calcutta manuscript of the\\nRubaiyat, and this had been carefully compared\\nwith the Bodleian, to the end that on July 13, 1857, he\\nwrites\\nBy to-morrow I shall have finished my first Physiognomy of\\nOmar, whom I decidedly prefer to any Persian I have yet seen, unless\\nperhaps Salaman.\\nOf this first Physiognomy he says in the subse-\\nquent year, when it had been retouched for publication:\\nMy translation will interest you from its form, and also in many\\nrespects in its detail, very unliteral as it is. Many quatrains are\\nmashed together, and something lost, I doubt, of Omar s simplicity,\\nwhich is so much a virtue in him. But there it is, such as it is.\\nFitzGerald s first disposition of the poem was to give\\nit, in January of 1858, to Parker, of Fra.se/ s Magazine\\nthat is, what he termed the less wicked of the\\nquatrains.\\nSince then, he writes to his friend, in September\\nof the same year, I have heard no more so, as I\\nsuppose, they don t care about it; and may be quite\\nright.\\nxiv", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0020.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nIt was evident as time went on that they did not\\ncare about it, and in November he writes again:\\nAs to Omar, I hear and see nothing of it in Fraser yet. I told\\nParker he might find it rather dangerous among his Divines he took\\nit, however, and keeps it. I really think I shall take it back add some\\nstanzas which I kept out for fear of being too strong print fifty copies\\nand give away one to you, who won t like it neither. Yet it is most\\ningeniously tesselated into a sort of Epicurean Eclogue in a Persian\\nGarden.\\nIn January we find him informing Cowell that he\\nhad recalled the poem, and was to enlarge it to near\\nas much again of such matter as he would not dare\\nto put in Fraser, and print it, which resolve took\\ndefinite shape, as we have seen, during the late winter\\nof 1859.\\nWhile FitzGerald was so careful to conceal his own\\nidentity, and put so low a valuation upon his own per-\\nformance in letters, calling his talent the feminine\\nof genius, he was still human, and having created a\\nwork of art it pained him as much as another that it\\nshould come into the world still-born. There is a\\npathetic note in the following letter to Cowell\\nI sent you poor old Omar, who has his kind of consolation for all\\nthese things. I doubt you will regret you ever introduced him to me.\\nI hardly know why I print any of these things, which nobody\\nbuys and I scarce now see the few I give them to. But when one\\nhas done one s best, and is sure that that best is better than so many\\nwill take pains to do, though far from the best that might be done,\\none likes to make an end of the matter by print. I suppose very few\\npeople have ever taken such pains in translation as I have, though\\nXV", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0021.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncertainly not to be literal. But, at all cost, a thing must live, with\\na transfusion of one s own worse life if one can t retain the original s\\nbetter. Better a live sparrow than a stuffed eagle.\\nFitzGerald, through the years in which his work was\\ntraversing the sliding scale to the penny box, kept hop-\\ning that his friend Cowell would edit Omar and thus\\ngive the old Persian his rightful place, and the letters\\nof this period are full of reference to the subject. One\\nextract will show his point of view\\nI suppose you would think it a dangerous thing to edit Omar\\nelse, who so proper Nay, are you not the only man to do it And\\nhe certainly is worth good re-editing. I thought him from the first\\nthe most remarkable of the Persian poets, and you keep finding out\\nin him evidences of logical fancy which I had not dreamed of. I dare\\nsay these logical riddles are not his best, but they are yet evidence\\nof a strength of mind which our Persian friends rarely exhibit, I think.\\nI doubt I have given but a very one-sided version of Omar but\\nwhat I do only comes up as a bubble to the surface and breaks\\nwhereas you, with exact scholarship, might make a lasting impres-\\nsion of such an author.\\nAs a matter of fact Prof. Cowell had written a schol-\\narly paper upon Omar in the Calcutta, ^evtew, compiled\\nfrom the texts of the Calcutta and Oxford manuscripts\\nbut this did nothing for the Rubaiyat in England, and\\nit was only by biding his time through the nearly ten\\nyears obscurity that FitzGerald had the gratification\\nof seeing his old Omar come into congenial fellow-\\nship for it was purely for Omar s sake and not his own\\nthat he desired the recognition, inasmuch as the subse-\\nquent editions of 1872 and 1879 came out anonymously,\\nxvi", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0022.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nas the first and second had done and in 1882, the year\\nbefore his death, we find him writing to Mr. Shiitz\\nWilson, who had proposed contributing a critical paper\\nupon Salaman\\nAs to the publication of my name, I believe I could well dispense\\nwith it, were it other and better than it is. But I have some unpleas-\\nant associations with it not the least of them being that it was borne,\\nChristian and surname, by a man who left College just when I went\\nthere. 1 What has become of him I know not but he, among\\nother causes, has made me dislike my name, and made me sign my-\\nself (half in fun, of course) to my friends, as I now do to you, sincerely\\nyours (The Laird of) LITTLEGRANGE.\\nAlmost every incident connected with the gentle Fitz-\\nGerald is picturesque, from the coasting trips that he\\nused to take with his faithful old boatman aboard his\\nyacht, the Scandal so named because that was the\\nstaple amusement of the village to the walks and talks\\nwith Cowell, his own familiar friend, along the lanes\\nof Woodbridge and one loves to linger over these asso-\\nciations, but there is a more necessary word to be said\\nin regard to the fidelity of FitzGerald s work in the light\\nof more recent interpretations, both in metre and prose.\\nIt would be wearisome and futile to reopen the con-\\ntroversy that has been so well waged by eminent schol-\\nars, with H. G. Keene, Mrs. Cadell and other translators\\nof the Rubaiyat declaring that FitzGerald had pro-\\nduced a beautiful poem that is not Omar that there\\n1 Edward Marlborough FitzGerald, of unpleasant notoriety.\\nii xvii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0023.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nis, for instance, no Door of Darkness in the Per-\\nsian imagery, and that many other of the most brilliant\\nand daring of FitzGerald s figures have no proto-\\ntype in the original and with such scholars as Mr.\\nCharles Eliot Norton and Dr. Talcott Williams taking\\nthe middle ground, that it is rather a poetic transfusion\\nthan a translation. This is perhaps the most tenable\\nview, but it no longer requires a knowledge of Persian\\nto form one s own opinion with at least approximate\\naccuracy. As will be seen by consulting the biblio-\\ngraphy, there are now several English translations of\\nthe Rubaiyat that may be had in book form, as well\\nas many partial renderings that have appeared in maga-\\nzines, and by going to the literal prose versions of Mr.\\nJustin Huntly McCarthy and Mr. Edward Heron-Allen,\\none may not only discover for himself the sources of\\nhis favourite FitzGerald quatrains, but he may also com-\\npare the other poetical renditions with these literal\\noriginals. Nothing could be more fascinating.\\nHe will soon discover that FitzGerald was his own\\nbest critic, and that when he said that he had mashed\\ntogether many of the Rubaiyat, he epitomized his\\nwhole method of translation and Omar gains im-\\nmensely by the process. Even wine, roses, and night-\\ningales cease to appeal when one s senses are steeped\\nin 845 quatrains of them, and not the least charm of\\nFitzGerald s art was its restraint, and its power to\\ndistil the essence of a hundred roses into one.\\nxviii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0024.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nIn reading Mr. McCarthy s translation one constantly\\ncomes upon passages which he recognizes as from the\\nsame original as certain ones of FitzGerald s, but in\\nwhich the latter has used only part of the thought,\\ndiscarding the rest, or embodying it in another stanza.\\nFor example, Mr. McCarthy thus renders a celebrated\\nquatrain.\\nSince life flies, what matters it whether it be sweet or bitter\\nSince our souls must escape through our lips, what matters it whether\\nit be at Naishaptir or Babylon Drink, then, for after thou and I are\\ndust the moon will for many days pass from her last to her first\\nquarter, and from her first to her last.\\nAnd FitzGerald, seizing the essential spirit of the\\nlines, while discarding the elaboration, turns it into\\nthis gem\\nWhether at Naishapur or Babylon,\\nWhether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,\\nThe Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,\\nThe Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.\\nComparisons need not be multiplied from Mr. McCar-\\nthy s version, since one will be enabled in this volume\\nto make such for himselfybut the same phase of Fitz-\\nGerald s work may be considered from the literal\\nrendition of Mr. Edward Heron-Allen, which is not\\nso accessible to American readers. Mr. Heron-Allen\\nsays that during twelve years study both of the Cal-\\ncutta and Oxford manuscripts, he has been interested\\nin tracing out the originals of FitzGerald s quatrains, or\\nxix", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0025.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nindividual lines, and finds that there are very few lines\\nin the latter s rendering that do not exist more or less\\nclosely in the Persian. He has further discovered that\\nthe inspiration of several of the stanzas that have\\npuzzled the student of FitzGerald s work, came from\\nthe Mantik ut tair of Attar, which he had been study-\\ning just prior to his rendering of the Rubaiyat.\\nHe has found in this work the originals of the quatrains\\nbeginning, Oh Thou! who Man of baser Earth didst\\nmake, and Heaven but the vision of fulfilled Desire,\\nalso the noble distich,\\nEarth could not answer, nor the Seas that mourn\\nIn flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn.\\nThe scholarly work of Mr. Heron-Allen is full of\\nnew light for the lover of Omar, and while he has not\\naimed at beauty of rendering, a prose translation that\\nfollows the original line by line is a most valuable basis\\nfor comparative study.\\nHe has confined himself to the quatrains of the Bod-\\nleian manuscript, 158 in number, and to follow these\\nand select from them a line here, or a line there, possi-\\nbly a couplet or an entire quatrain which one recog-\\nnizes at once as a FitzGerald original, is like building\\nup for oneself a beautiful mosaic.\\nIt is certainly true that FitzGerald largely destroyed\\nthe verisimilitude of his work by giving it a continuity\\nthat does not exist in Omar. Each quatrain in the\\nxx", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0026.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\noriginal is a detached thought, and with no consecutive\\narrangement other than an alphabetical one whereas\\nin FitzGerald there is a certain unity that has been\\nobtained by selecting fragmentary thoughts and render-\\ning and grouping them so as to form an Oriental poem,\\nrather than a handful of loose gems as in the original.\\nBut this arrangement renders it far more delightful to\\nEnglish readers, and when it has been discovered that\\nthere exists in Omar a prototype for nearly all of Fitz-\\nGerald s lines, we have no quarrel with the translator\\nfor transposing them to suit his own fancy. It will be\\ninteresting to see how close are some of FitzGerald s\\nrenditions to the literal, and then to examine a few\\nmosaics.\\nMr. Heron-Allen thus renders a familiar quatrain\\nIn great desire I pressed my lips to the lip of the jar,\\nTo inquire from it how long life might be attained\\nIt joined its lip to mine and whispered\\nDrink wine, for, to this world, thou returnest not.\\nAnd FitzGerald says (second edition)\\nThen to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn\\nI leaned, the secret Well of Life to learn\\nAnd Lip to Lip it murmur d While you live,\\nDrink for, once dead, you never shall return.\\nHeron-Allen\\nO soul if thou canst purify thyself from the dust of the body,\\nThou, naked spirit, canst soar in the heavens,\\nThe Empyrean is thy sphere, let it be thy shame,\\nThat thou comest and art a dweller within the confines of earth.\\nxxi", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0027.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nFitzGerald (second edition)\\nWhy, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,\\nAnd naked on the Air of Heaven ride,\\nIs t not a shame is t not a shame for him\\nSo long in this Clay suburb to abide\\nHeron-Allen\\nI saw a potter in the bazaar yesterday,\\nHe was violently pounding the fresh clay,\\nAnd that clay said to him, in mystic language,\\n1 1 was once like thee so treat me well.\\nFitzGerald (first edition)\\nFor in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day,\\nI watch d the Potter thumping his wet Clay\\nAnd with its all obliterated Tongue\\nIt murmur d Gently, Brother, gently, pray\\nHeron-Allen\\nThis vault of heaven, beneath which we stand bewildered,\\nWe know to be a sort of magic-lantern\\nKnow thou that the sun is the lamp-flame and the universe is the\\nlamp,\\nWe are like figures that revolve in it.\\nFitzGerald (fourth edition)\\nWe are no other than a moving row\\nOf Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go\\nRound with the Sun-illumin d Lantern held\\nIn Midnight by the Master of the Show.\\nAnd the lovers of a Book of Verses will delight\\nin knowing that this sentiment came straight from the\\nheart of Omar. Mr. Heron-Allen thus interprets it\\nxxii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0028.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nI desire a little ruby wine and a book of verses,\\nJust enough to keep me alive, and half a loaf is needful\\nAnd then, that I and thou should sit in a desolate place\\nIs better than the kingdom of a sultan.\\nHow near this is, to\\nA Book of Verses underneath the Bough,\\nA Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread and Thou\\nBeside me singing in the Wilderness\\nOh, Wilderness were Paradise enow\\nand yet what infinite charm it has gathered from the\\ntouch of FitzGerald\\nOne might go on indefinitely citing close parallels,\\nmany in their entirety, like these, but more inlaid piece\\nby piece, as has been mentioned. As an illustration of\\nthis constructive process of FitzGerald s we find in\\nMr. Heron-Allen s version, quatrain 134, this partial\\nprototype\\nThis heavenly vault is like a bowl, fallen upside down,\\nUnder which all the wise have fallen captive.\\nChoose thou the manner of friendship of the goblet and the jar\\nThey are 1 lip to lip, and blood has fallen between them.\\nAnd quatrain 41 reads\\nThe good and the bad that are in man s nature,\\nThe happiness and misery that are predestined for us\\nDo not impute them to the heavens, for in the way of wisdom\\nThose heavens are a thousandfold more helpless than thou art.\\n1 The italicized words, the translator explains, do not properly\\nappear in the original, but are inserted by him to render the meaning\\nmore intelligible.\\nXX111", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0029.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nFitzGerald, discarding the last two lines of the first\\nquatrain, and the first two of the last, combines the\\nother four in this spirited manner:\\nAnd that inverted Bowl they call the Sky,\\nWhereunder crawling coop d, we live and die\\nLift not your hands to It for help for It\\nAs impotently moves as you or I.\\nWhile we have gained a beautiful stanza from this\\nbold transposition, it is certain in this instance that\\nFitzGerald destroys the thought of Omar by such a\\ncombination. One more example will suffice to show\\nthis process of selection.\\nMr. Heron-Allen says\\nFrom the beginning was written what shall be\\nUnhaltingly the Pen writes, and is heedless of good and bad;\\nOn the First Day He appointed everything that must be\\nOur grief and our efforts are vain.\\nThis, with complementary thought selected from\\nother quatrains of Omar, has been expanded by Fitz-\\nGerald into two stanzas, 71 and 73 of the fourth\\nedition\\nThe Moving Finger writes and, having writ,\\nMoves on nor all your Piety nor Wit\\nShall lure it back to cancel half a Line,\\nNor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.\\nWith Earth s first Clay they did the Last Man knead,\\nAnd there of the Last Harvest sow d the Seed\\nAnd the first Morning of Creation wrote\\nWhat the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.\\nxxiv", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0030.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nThe more widely one studies the different versions,\\nthe more is he impressed with the fine discrimination of\\nFitzGerald in the use of Omar s best material, and in\\nthe art that could so vitalize the spirit while ignoring\\nso much of the substance.\\nWhen so much is omitted, however, there is likely\\nto be but a partial interpretation of the author, and it\\nis obvious in comparing the translations that while\\nFitzGerald has done the old Persian good service in\\nblotting out many of his offences, by silence concerning\\nthem, he has done him an ill service in preserving\\nsilence upon some of his virtues. In the translation of\\nMr. Whinfield, in this volume, and in that of our\\nAmerican scholar, John Leslie Garner, as well as in\\nthe rendering of Mrs. Cadell and others, Omar appears\\nto a much better advantage on the spiritual side of things\\nthan he does in the stanzas of FitzGerald. It requires\\nlittle discernment to see that he talked far more than he\\nacted, and that his arraignment of the Deity is largely a\\nbravado to conceal his misgiving and unrest. One can-\\nnothold, however, to the extreme view of Mens. Nicolas\\nthat Omar was a Sufi, veiling Divinity under a symbol\\nof Wine since Omar himself repudiates this assump-\\ntion by his scorn of the Sufi. The keynote of the\\nRubaiyat is an ironical protest against the ceremo-\\nnials and doctrines of Sufism. Omar s voice was free,\\nsatirical, often defiant; and yet he was driven onward\\nthrough his spangle of Existence by a haunting\\nxxv", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0031.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ndesire to know the Secret, to find the single Alif\\nthat should be the clue to the Master.\\nMr. H. G. Keene, who has translated a number of the\\nRubaiyat, has this redeeming quatrain\\nIf I drink wine it is not for delight, 1\\nNor unto holiness to do despite\\nI drink to breathe a little, free from self,\\nNo other cause could make me drink all night.\\nAnd Whitely Stokes draws the veil a little further\\naside\\nI cannot reach the Road to join with Thee\\nI cannot bear one breath apart from Thee\\nI dare not tell this grief to any man\\nAh hard Ah strange Ah longing sweet for Thee\\nMr. Whinfield, as will be observed, has many quat-\\nrains that show the other self of Omar, and Mr. John\\nLeslie Garner has also penetrated deeply into this\\nunrest. Two Rubaiyat in his rendering may be cited\\nas illustrative\\nWhen thee, my soul, in wine s strong chains I bind,\\nWho comes to thee upon the desert wind\\nWho is this mighty being who without\\nIs none the less the God within thee shrined\\nOh, Allah, grant my wounded heart Thy rest 2\\nBe merciful unto my grief-torn breast\\nForgive these feet that bring me to the inn\\nForgive this hand that takes the vine s bequest.\\ni See McCarthy, C XXX; Whinfield, XXXIX.\\n2 See McCarthy, CCCC XXIII.\\nXXVI", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0032.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nOften, too, in varying phrase, recurs this desire\\nAnd now I fain would know if sins of mine\\nCan overthrow Thy mercy at the last.\\nInstead of saying with Mr. Andrew Lang, No Man\\nso sure as Omar once was sure we should say, no one\\nso unsure for Omar is ever groping and never finding,\\nand his abandonment to the senses is always reaction-\\nary. It is after he has eagerly frequented Doctor and\\nSaint, and addressed himself to the rolling Heaven,\\nand gone in vain down on the stubborn floor of\\nEarth, that he finally leans his lip to the poor\\nearthen Urn that bids him Drink He has pon-\\ndered too much, and in sheer weariness at mysticism\\nand cant, comes back to the old dictum\\nWaste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit\\nOf This and That endeavor and dispute\\nBetter be jocund with the fruitful Grape\\nThan sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.\\nOmar was a hopeless fatalist, yet longing to hope and\\ninclined, very properly, from a fatalistic standpoint, to\\nlay the blame for this Sorry Scheme of Things upon\\nthe One who planned it. Mr. Garner has two strong\\nquatrains in this mood\\n1 I am as from Thy Crucible I came,\\nA base alloy and conscious of my shame.\\nWhy should I strive my erring ways to mend\\nT is Thine, Oh, Allah, and not mine the blame\\ni See Whinfield, LVI and C XXVIII.\\nxxvii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0033.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nli( Lives there a man who keepeth each decree\\nAnd if I err, t is writ Thou chastenest me.\\nWhat if I sin, and in return Thou strikest,\\nWhat is the difference between me and Thee.\\nHad evolution, both natural and spiritual, been demon-\\nstrated before Omar s time, we may believe that it\\nwould have unlocked the Door to which he found no\\nKey but without Science he could not grasp what\\nwas being dimly foreshadowed, and that the Creator\\nshould\\nFrom His helpless Creature be repaid\\nPure Gold for what He lent him dross-allay d\\nwas to him only insolence, instead of beneficent law.\\nTaking into account this fatalism, and the retrogression\\nfrom intellectual and spiritual to material which one\\nfinds in Omar, even though stirred, as has been shown,\\nwith a high unrest, there is very little from a philo-\\nsophical standpoint in his work for the Western world\\nand the Twentieth Century. There are, however, cer-\\ntain eternally modern thoughts, such as that splendid\\nepitome of all philosophy, I, myself, am Heaven and\\nHell, that will be a residuum after any analysis.\\nIn bringing into one volume the Rubaiy t in three\\ninterpretations, one may get much closer to the real\\nnature of the Persian. Mr. Whinfield s translation,\\nhaving been published only in England, is compara-\\ni See Whinfield, CC XXIX McCarthy, CCCC XXV.\\nxxviii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0034.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\ntively unfamiliar to American readers but from its\\nacknowledged accuracy as well as art, an acquaintance\\nwith it will be interesting and valuable. It was the\\noutgrowth of intimate study of the Persian and other\\nOriental literature, entered upon while the translator\\nwas in the Bengal Service and is especially valuable\\nfrom the fact that Mr. Whinfield has not only col-\\nlated the various manuscripts of Omar for the most\\nauthentic quatrains, but has carefully sifted from the\\nmass of fugitive Rubaiyat attributed to him those that\\nseem to bear strongest evidence of the master s hand.\\nThe quatrains are also translated in their original\\ngrouping, and each in its entirety, which renders the\\nwork much closer to the original than that of Fitz-\\nGerald. Mr. Whinfield s translation is well known in\\nEngland, and has received there the endorsement of all\\nOmaric scholars.\\nIn his preface he discusses at some length the duality\\nof Omar s nature, and concludes that his philosophi-\\ncal studies would naturally stimulate his skeptical and\\nirreligious disposition, while his mystical leanings\\nwould operate mainly in the contrary direction.\\nHis poems, adds the translator, were obviously not all written\\nat one period of his life, but from time to time, just as circumstances\\nand mood suggested, and under the influence of the thoughts, pas-\\nsions, and desires which happened to be uppermost at the moment.\\nIt may be that the irreligious and Epicurean quatrains were written\\nin youth, and the devotional only in riper years. But this hypothe-\\nsis seemed to be disproved by Shahrastani s account of him, which is\\nquite silent as to any such conversion or change of sentiment on his\\nxxix", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0035.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\npart, and also by the fact that he describes himself from first to last as\\na halter between two opinions, and as a backslider in his practice.\\nThe mention of Omar by Shahrastani, who was born\\nin 479 A.H. and lived for some time at Naishapur, is\\ninteresting from its personal picture of the poet:\\nOmar al Khayyam, Imam of Khorasan, and the greatest scholar\\nof his time, was versed in all the learning of the Greeks. He ware\\nwont to exhort men to seek the One Author of all by purifying the\\nbodily actions in order to the sanctification of the soul. He also\\nused to recommend the study of Politics as laid down in Greek\\nauthors. The later Sufis have caught at the apparent sense of parts\\nof his poems and accommodated them to their own canon, making\\nthem a subject of discussion in their assemblies and conventicles,\\nbut the esoteric sense consists in axioms of natural religion and\\nprinciples of universal obligation. When the men of his time an-\\nathematized his doctrines, and drew forth his opinions from the\\nconcealment in which he had veiled them, he went in fear of his life,\\nand placed some check on the sallies of his tongue and his pen. He\\nmade the pilgrimage, but it was from accident rather than piety,\\nstill betraying his unorthodox views. On his arrival at Baghdad the\\nmen who prosecuted the same ancient studies as he flocked to meet\\nhim, but he shut the door in their faces, as one who had renounced\\nthose studies and cultivated them no longer. On his return to his\\nnative city he made a practice of attending the morning and evening\\nprayers and of disguising his private opinions, but for all that, they\\nwere no secret. In astronomy and in all philosophy he was without\\na rival, and his eminence in those sciences would have passed into a\\nproverb had he only possessed self-control.\\nIn the fact of Omar s wide learning, his studies in\\nyouth with the theologian Imam Muaffik, who indoc-\\ntrinated him with the conception of God as the Only-\\nReal Agent, leaving no room for the determining\\npower of Will his later familiarity with the Moslem\\nXXX", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0036.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nphilosophers and the Sufi mystics, as well as in the\\nskeptical effect of scientific studies upon his thought,\\nMr. Whinfield finds the explanation of the two phases\\nof his character, or rather the two habits of his mind,\\nsince his character is generally conceded to have been\\nmore reputable than some of his Bacchanalian stanzas\\nwould give one to infer.\\nOmar has perhaps had no interpreter who brought to\\nhim so much enthusiasm as did Mr. Justin McCarthy\\nhe studied Persian solely that he might know Omar.\\nHis rendition, while in prose, is such as to stimulate\\none s poetic sense one catches the colour and fancy and\\nsets them to his own rhythm. Whitman says, The\\ngreat poems are such as give you to form for yourself\\npoems, and Mr. McCarthy s prose has the qualities of\\nsuch a poem.\\nIn his delightful preface, still warm with first joy, he\\ndescribes the effect which the reading of FitzGerald s\\nquatrains had upon him:\\nI drank the red wine of Omar, he says, from the enchanted\\nchalice of FitzGerald and gloried, as joyously as Omar himself, in the\\nintoxication. The book was not mine to keep, but I knew it almost\\nby heart before I parted with it and I speedily had an Omar of my\\nown. From this Omar with infinite pains I made a small copy which\\nI carried about with me, carried with me in wanderings to Italy, and\\nread and re-read read in all manner of fair Italian cities, till even\\nnow the winds of Verona and the waters of Venice and praeceps\\nanio seem to bear the burden rather of the dear old Persian singer\\nthan any echo of Romeo, or Tasso, or Horace. I made myself a kind\\nxxxi", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0037.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nof little religion out of Omar I became a burden to my friends my\\nwritings for I wrote even in those days seemed with the persis-\\ntency of Hotspur s starling to do little save echo the name of Omar.\\n11 From the Omar of FitzGerald s incomparable verse to Omar\\nhimself the real Omar in his native Persian was a step, but a hard\\nstep. I struggled with the strange script of the East; I be-\\ncame possessed of Mr. Whinfield s edition first, then of Nicolas\\nthe one accompanied by a rendering in English verse, the other\\nby a translation in French prose. With these in such leisure as I\\ncould find, and at long intervals, I grappled. My Persian of to-day\\nis at the best but beggarly, but such as it is it has given me infinite\\npleasure. I have got a little nearer to the great poet of Naishapur.\\nIn speaking of the recognition of Omar at nearly the\\nsame time in France and England, Mr. McCarthy men-\\ntions that Theophile Gautier was to the translation of\\nNicolas, what Swinburne was to that of FitzGerald\\nits most enthusiastic admirer, and Omar s most ardent\\ndevotee.\\nTh6ophile Gautier s words, he says, help to conjure up a\\ncharacteristic, delightful picture of Omar Khayyam seated on some\\nwide white terrace at the cool of the day with friends and dancing-\\ngirls about him, with cups and jars at hand, with some book of verses\\nhard by, the fair fine Persian script black upon the ivory-tinted vel-\\nlum all gorgeous with blues and reds and powdered with gold. Here\\nthe skimmer of the stars set free his soul, laughed at the mollahs,\\nsang his divine songs and Loosed his fingers in the tresses of the\\ncypress-slender minister of wine. Or we may imagine him walking\\nin some garden red with roses and noisy with nightingales, and\\nmeditating upon the doom of youth and beauty and the grinding\\nWheel of Heaven which reduces Jamshid and Kai Khosrou to Pot-\\nter s clay and bids tulips spring from the cheeks of perished loveli-\\nness. Or yet again reclining in some green place where the lilies\\nblow like the lazy Horatian child of genius, By the smooth head of.\\nsome sacred stream, with wine and rhymes and a delicious friend.\\nxxxii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0038.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "INTRODUCTION\\nBut always melancholy, as melancholy as Koheleth yesterday, Scho-\\npenhauer or Julius Bahnsen to-day, filled indeed with what Renan\\ncalls la grande curiosite, but wholly unable to gratify it or stifle it.\\nSuch picturesque visions as these bespeak the sym-\\npathetic sight, and it is with this sympathy that Mr.\\nMcCarthy approaches Omar.\\nIn presenting these versions of the Rubaiyat there\\nis no intention of instituting a literary comparison, but\\nsimply of bringing together representative translations\\nfrom the standpoint of fidelity and beauty for all must\\nconcede that of the many gates by which one may\\nenter Omar s garden, the Gate which is called Beau-\\ntiful remains that opened by Edward FitzGerald.\\nJESSIE B. RITTENHOUSE.\\nXXXlll", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0039.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0040.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "The Rubaiyat of\\nOmar Khayyam\\nThe Astronomer-Poet of Persia\\nRendered into English Verse by\\nEdward FitzGerald", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0041.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0042.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "TO OMAR KHAYYAM\\nTJfJTlSE Omar, do the Southern freezes fling\\ncflbove your Grave, at ending of the Spring,\\nThe Snowdrift of the Petals of the ^ose,\\nThe %ild Ifrhite ^oses you J ere ont to sing\\nFar in the South I know a Land divine, 1\\ncAnd there is many a Saint and many a Shrine,\\n(And over all the shrines the blossom blows\\nOf ^oses that l ere dear to you as Wine*\\nYou faere a Saint of unbelieving Days,\\nLiking your Life and happy in Men s Praise;\\nEnough for you the Shade beneath the Bough,\\nEnough to %atch the foild World go its Ways.\\nDreadless and hopeless thou of Heaven or Hell,\\nCareless of Words thou hadst not Skill to spell,\\nContent to know not all thou knowest now,\\nWhat s Death? Doth any Pitcher dread the Welt?\\n1 The hills above San Remo f where rose-bushes are planted by the\\nshrines* Omar desired that his grave might be where the e wind would\\nscatter rose-leaves over it*\\nXXXVll", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0043.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nThe Pitchers %e, ^hose cMaker makes them ill,\\nShall He torment them if they chance to spill?\\ncHjiy, like the broken Potsherds are T^e cast\\nForth and forgotten, and %hat itl be illl\\nSo still %ere %e, before the cMonths began\\nThat rounded us and shaped us into Man*\\nSo still %e shall be, surely, at the last,\\nSeamless, untouched of Blessing or of Ban I\\nAh, strange it seems that this thy common Thought\\nHovj all Things have been, ay, and shall be nought\\nWas ancient Wisdom in thine ancient East,\\nIn those old Days hen Sentac fight li?as fought,\\nWhich gave our England for a captive Land,\\nTo pious Chiefs of a believing Band,\\nA gift to the Believer from the Priest,\\nTossed from the holy to the blood-red Hand l\\nYea, thou %ert singing %hen that cArrovj clave\\nThrough Helm and Brain of him %ho could not save\\nHis England, even of Harold, Godwin s son\\nThe high Tide murmurs by the Hero s Grave I\\n1 Omar %as contemporary faith the Battle of Hastings.\\nxxxviii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0044.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "TO OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncAnd thou ert reathing Tfyses %ho can tell?\\nOr chanting for some Girl that pleased thee ell,\\nOr satst at ine in cNjishapur, hen dun\\nThe twilight Veiled the Field here Harold fell!\\nThe salt Sea-waves above him rage and roam I\\nc/llong the %hite Walls of his guarded Home\\nSNj Zephyr stirs the Ttyse, hut o f er the Wave\\nThe %ild Wind beats the breakers into Foam I\\ncAnd dear to him, as Tfyses toere to thee,\\nRings long the Tfyar of Onset of the Sea;\\nThe Swan s Path of his Fathers is his Grave:\\nHis Sleep, methinks, is sound as thine can be.\\nHis ^as the cMge of Faith, %hen all the West\\nLooked to the driest for Torment or for Rest;\\nc/lnd thou \\\\t ert living then, and didst not heed\\nThe Saint ho banned thee or the Saint ho blessed!\\nc/lges of Progress These eight hundred Years\\nHath Europe shuddered %ith her Hopes or Fears,\\nAnd novo! she listens in the Wilderness\\nTo thee, and half believetb %hat she hears\\nxxxix", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0045.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nHadst thou THE SECRET? Ah, and %ho may tell}\\ncAn Hour %e have, thou saidst; Ab, %aste it welt!\\nAn Hour we have, and yet Eternity\\nLooms o f er us, and the Thought of Heaven or Hell!\\ncNiay, we can never he as wise as thou,\\nidle Singer f neath the blossomed Bough*\\nc^Cay, and vje cannot he content to die*\\nWe cannot shirk the Questions Where? and Horn)?\\nAh, not from learned ^eace and gay Content,\\nShall we of England go the vjay he vjent\\nThe Singer of the Red Wine and the Tfyse\\n3(ay, otherwise than his our Day is spent!\\nSerene he dwelt in fragrant c)^ash%pur,\\n*But we must wander while the Stars endure,\\nHe Knew the SECRET: we have none that knows*\\noAfo Man so sure as Omar once was sure!\\ncANDREW LANG*\\nxl", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0046.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "OMAR KHAYYAM\\nThe Astronomer-Poet of Persia\\nOMAR KHAYYAM was born at Naishapur in\\nKhorassan in the latter half of our Eleventh,\\nand died within the First Quarter of our\\nTwelfth Century. The slender Story of his Life is\\ncuriously twined about that of two other very con-\\nsiderable Figures in their Time and Country: one of\\nwhom tells the Story of all Three. This was Nizam\\nul Mulk, Vizyr to Alp Arslan the Son, and Malik Shah\\nthe Grandson, of Toghrul Beg the Tartar, who had\\nwrested Persia from the feeble successor of Mahmud\\nthe Great, and founded that Seljukian Dynasty which\\nfinally roused Europe into the Crusades. This Nizam\\nul Mulk, in his Wasiyat -or Testament which he\\nwrote and left as a Memorial for future Statesmen\\nrelates the following, as quoted in the Calcutta Review,\\nNo. LIX., from Mirkhond s History of the Assassins*\\nOne of the greatest of the wise men of Khorassan\\nwas the Imam Mowaffak of Naishapur, a man highly\\nhonoured and reverenced may God rejoice his soul;\\nhis illustrious years exceeded eighty-five, and it was\\nthe universal belief that every boy who read the Koran\\nor studied the traditions in his presence, would assur-\\nedly attain to honour and happiness. For this cause\\ndid my father send me from Tus to Naishapur with\\nAbd-us-samad, the doctor of law, that I might employ\\nmyself in study and learning under the guidance of\\nthat illustrious teacher. Towards me he ever turned\\ni i", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0047.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nan eye of favour and kindness, and as his pupil I felt\\nfor him extreme affection and devotion, so that I\\npassed four years in his service. When I first came\\nthere, I found two other pupils of mine own age\\nnewly arrived, Hakim Omar Khayyam and the ill-\\nfated Ben Sabbah. Both were endowed with sharp-\\nness of wit and the highest natural powers and we\\nthree formed a close friendship together. When the\\nImam rose from his lectures, they used to join me, and\\nwe repeated to each other the lessons we had heard.\\nNow Omar was a native of Naishapur, while Hasan\\nBen Sabbah s father was one AH, a man of austere\\nlife and practice, but heretical in his creed and doc-\\ntrine. One day Hasan said to me and to Khayyam,\\nIt is a universal belief that the pupils of the Imam\\nMowaffak will attain to fortune. Now, even if we all\\ndo not attain thereto, without doubt one of us will\\nwhat, then shall be our mutual pledge and bond?\\nWe answered, Be it what you please. Well, he\\nsaid, let us make a vow, that to whomsoever this\\nfortune falls, he shall share it equally with the rest,\\nand reserve no pre-eminence for himself. Be it so,\\nwe both replied, and on those terms we mutually\\npledged our words. Years rolled on, and I went from\\nKhorass n to Transoxiana, and wandered to Ghazni\\nand Cabul and when I returned I was invested with\\noffice, and rose to be administrator of affairs during the\\nSultanate of Sultan Alp Arslan.\\n2", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0048.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "OMAR K H AY YA M\\nHe goes on to state that years passed by, and both\\nhis old school-friends found him out, and came and\\nclaimed a share in his good fortune, according to the\\nschool-day vow. The Vizier was generous and kept\\nhis word. Hasan demanded a place in the government,\\nwhich the Sultan granted at the Vizier s request but,\\ndiscontented with a gradual rise, he plunged into the\\nmaze of intrigue of an Oriental Court, and, failing in a\\nbase attempt to supplant his benefactor, he was dis-\\ngraced and fell. After many mishaps and wanderings,\\nHasan became the head of the Persian sect of the\\nIsma.ilia.ns, a party of fanatics who had long mur-\\nmured in obscurity, but rose to an evil eminence under\\nthe guidance of his strong and evil will. In A.D. 1090,\\nhe seized the castle of Alamut, in the province of\\nRudbar, which lies in the mountainous tract south of\\nthe Caspian Sea, and it was from this mountain home\\nhe obtained that evil celebrity among the Crusaders as\\nthe OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS, and spread\\nterror through the Mohammedan world and it is yet\\ndisputed whether the word Assassin, which they have\\nleft in the language of modern Europe, as their dark\\nmemorial, is derived from the hashish, or opiate of\\nhemp-leaves (the Indian bhang), with which they\\nmaddened themselves to the sullen pitch of Oriental\\ndesperation, or from the name of the founder of the\\ndynasty, whom we have seen in his quiet collegiate\\ndays, at Naishapur. One of the countless victims of\\n3", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0049.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nthe Assassin s dagger was Nizam ul Mulk himself, the\\nold school-boy friend. 1\\nOmar Khayyam also came to the Vizier to claim\\nhis share but not to ask for title or office. The\\ngreatest boon you can confer on me, he said, is to\\nlet me live in a corner under the shadow of your for-\\ntune, to spread wide the advantages of Science, and\\npray for your long life and prosperity. The Vizier\\ntells us that, when he found Omar was really sincere\\nin his refusal, he pressed him no further, but granted\\nhim a yearly pension of 1200 mithkals of gold, from the\\ntreasury of Naishapur.\\nAt Naishapur thus lived and died Omar Khayyam,\\nc busied, adds the Vizier, in winning knowledge of\\nevery kind, and especially in Astronomy, wherein he\\nattained to a very high pre-eminence. Under the Sul-\\ntanate of Malik Shah, he came to Merv, and obtained\\ngreat praise for his proficiency in science, and the\\nSultan showered favours upon him.\\nWhen Malik Shah determined to reform the calen-\\ndar, Omar was one of the eight learned men employed\\nto do it the result was the Jalali era (so called from\\n1 Some of Omar s Rubaiyat warn us of the danger of Greatness,\\nthe instability of Fortune, and while advocating Charity to all Men,\\nrecommending us to be too intimate with none. Attar makes\\nNizam ul Mulk use the very words of his friend Omar [Rub. xxviii.],\\n11 When Nizam ul Mulk was in the Agony (of Death) he said, Oh\\nGod I am passing away in the hand of the Wind.\\n4", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0050.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "OMAR K H AY YA M\\nJalal-ud-din, one of the king s names) a computation\\nof time, says Gibbon, which surpasses the Julian,\\nand approaches the accuracy of the Gregorian style.\\nHe is also the author of some astronomical tables, en-\\ntitled Ziji-Malikshahi, and the French have lately\\nrepublished and translated an Arabic Treatise of his\\non Algebra.\\nHis Takhallus or poetical name (Khayyam) signi-\\nfies a Tentmaker, and he is said to have at one time\\nexercised that trade, perhaps before Nizam ul Mulk s\\ngenerosity raised him to independence. Many Persian\\npoets similarly derive their names from their occupa-\\ntions thus we have Attar, a druggist, Assar, an oil\\npresser, etc. 1 Omar himself alludes to his name in\\nthe following whimsical lines\\nKhayyam, who stitched the tents of science,\\nHas fallen in grief s furnace and been suddenly burned\\nThe shears of Fate have cut the tent ropes of his life,\\nAnd the broker of Hope has sold him for nothing\\nWe have only one more anecdote to give of his\\nLife, and that relates to the close it is told in the\\nanonymous preface which is sometimes prefixed to his\\npoems it has been printed in the Persian in the\\nAppendix to Hyde s Veterum Persarum Religio, p. 499\\n1 Though all these, like our Smiths, Archers, Millers, Fletchers,\\netc., may simply retain the Surname of an hereditary calling.\\n5", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0051.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nand D Herbelot alludes to it in his Bibliotheque, under\\nKhtam: 1\\nIt is written in the chronicles of the ancients that\\nthis King of the Wise, Omar Khayyam, died at\\nNaishapur in the year of the Hegira, 517 (A. D. 1123)\\nin science he was unrivalled the very paragon of his\\nage. Khwajah Nizami of Samarcand, who was one of\\nhis pupils, relates the following story: I often\\nused to hold conversations with my teacher, Omar\\nKhayyam, in a garden and one day he said to me,\\nMy tomb shall be in a spot where the north wind\\nmay scatter roses over it. I wondered at the words\\nhe spake, but I knew that his were no idle words. 2\\n1 Philosophe Musulman qui a vecu en Odeur de Sainted dans\\nsa Religion, vers la Fin du premier et le Commencement du second\\nSiecle, no part of which, except the Philosophe, can apply to our\\nKhayyam.\\n2 The Rashness of the Words, according to D Herbelot, consisted\\nin being so opposed to those in the Koran No Man knows where\\nhe shall die This story of Omar reminds me of another so natu-\\nrally and when one remembers how wide of his humble mark the\\nnoble sailor aimed so pathetically told by Captain Cook not by\\nDoctor Hawkesworth in his Second Voyage (i. 374). When leav-\\ning Ulietea, Oreo s last request was for me to return. When he\\nsaw he could not obtain that promise, he asked the name of my\\nMarai (burying-place). As strange a question as this was, I hesitated\\nnot a moment to tell him Stepney, the parish in which I live when\\nin London. I was made to repeat it several times over till they could\\npronounce it and then Stepney Marai no Toote was echoed\\nthrough an hundred mouths at once. I afterwards found the same\\nquestion had been put to Mr. Forster by a man on shore but he\\n6", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0052.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "OMAR K H AY YA M\\nYears after, when I chanced to revisit Naishapur, I went\\nto his final resting-place, and lo it was just outside a\\ngarden, and trees laden with fruit stretched their\\nboughs over the garden wall, and dropped their flowers\\nupon his tomb, so that the stone was hidden under\\nthem.\\nThus far without fear of Trespass from the\\nCalcutta Review. The writer of it, on reading in India\\nthis story of Omar s Grave, was reminded, he says,\\nof Cicero s Account of finding Archimedes Tomb at\\nSyracuse, buried in grass and weeds. I think Thor-\\nwaldsen desired to have roses grow over him; a wish\\nreligiously fulfilled for him to the present day, I\\nbelieve. However, to return to Omar.\\nThough the Sultan shower d Favours upon him,\\nOmar s Epicurean Audacity of Thought and Speech\\ncaused him to be regarded askance in his own Time\\nand Country. He is said to have been especially hated\\nand dreaded by the Sufis, whose Practice he ridiculed,\\nand whose Faith amounts to little more than his own,\\nwhen stript of the Mysticism and formal recognition of\\nIslamism under which Omar would not hide. Their\\nPoets, including Hafiz, who are (with the exception of\\nFirdausi) the most considerable in Persia, borrowed\\nlargely, indeed, of Omar s material, but turning it to\\ngave a different and indeed more proper answer, by saying, No man\\nwho used the sea could say where he should be buried.\\n7", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0053.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\na mystical Use more convenient to Themselves and\\nthe People they addressed a People quite as quick of\\nDoubt as of Belief; as keen of Bodily Sense as of In-\\ntellectual and delighting in a cloudy composition of\\nboth, in which they could float luxuriously between\\nHeaven and Earth, and this World and the Next, on\\nthe wings of a poetical expression, that might serve\\nindifferently for either. Omar was too honest of\\nHeart as well as of Head for this. Having failed\\n(however mistakenly) of finding any Providence but\\nDestiny, and any World but This, he set about making\\nthe most of it; preferring rather to soothe the Soul\\nthrough the Senses into Acquiescence with Things as\\nhe saw them, than to perplex it with vain disquietude\\nafter what they might be. It has been seen, however,\\nthat his Worldly Ambition was not exorbitant and he\\nvery likely takes a humorous or perverse pleasure in\\nexalting the gratification of Sense above that of the\\nIntellect, in which he must have taken great delight,\\nalthough it failed to answer the Questions in which he,\\nin common with all men, was most vitally interested.\\nFor whatever Reason, however, Omar, as before\\nsaid, has never been popular in his own Country, and\\ntherefore has been but scantily transmitted abroad.\\nThe MSS. of his Poems, mutilated beyond the average\\nCasualties of Oriental Transcription, are so rare in\\nthe East as scarce to have reached Westward at all,\\nin spite of all the acquisitions of Arms and Science.\\n8", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0054.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "OMAR K H AY YA M\\nThere is no copy at the India House, none at the\\nBibliotheque Nationale of Paris. We know of but\\none in England No. 140 of the Ouseley MSS. at\\nthe Bodleian, written at Shiraz, A.D. 1460. This con-\\ntains but 158 Rubaiyat. One in the Asiatic Society s\\nLibrary at Calcutta (of which we have a Copy), con-\\ntains (and yet incomplete) 516, though swelled to that\\nby all kinds of Repetition and Corruption. So Von\\nHammer speaks of his Copy as containing about 200,\\nwhile Dr. Sprenger catalogues the Lucknow MS.\\nat double that number. 1 The Scribes, too, of the\\nOxford and Calcutta MSS. seem to do their Work\\nunder a sort of Protest each beginning with a\\nTetrastich (whether genuine or not), taken out of its\\nalphabetical order the Oxford with one of Apology\\nthe Calcutta with one of Expostulation, supposed\\n(says a Notice prefixed to the MS.) to have arisen\\nfrom a Dream, in which Omar s mother asked about\\nhis future fate. It may be rendered thus\\nOh Thou who burn st in Heart for those who burn\\nIn Hell, whose fires thyself shall feed in turn\\nHow long be crying, Mercy on them, God\\nWhy, who art Thou to teach, and He to learn\\nThe Bodleian Quatrain pleads Pantheism by way of\\nJustification.\\n1 Since this paper was written (adds the Reviewer in a note),\\nwe have met with a Copy of a very rare Edition, printed at Calcutta\\nin 1836. This contains 438 Tetrastichs, with an Appendix containing\\n54 others not found in some MSS.\\n9", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0055.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "RUBAlYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nIf I myself upon a looser Creed\\nHave loosely strung the Jewel of Good deed,\\nLet this one thing for my Atonement plead\\nThat One for Two I never did mis-read.\\nThe Reviewer, 1 to whom I owe the Particulars of\\nOmar s Life, concludes his Review by comparing him\\nwith Lucretius, both as to natural Temper and\\nGenius, and as acted upon by the Circumstances in\\nwhich he lived. Both indeed were men of subtle,\\nstrong, and cultivated Intellect, fine Imagination, and\\nHearts passionate for Truth and Justice who justly\\nrevolted from their Country s false Religion, and false,\\nor foolish, Devotion to it but who fell short of replac-\\ning what they subverted by such better Hope as others,\\nwith no better Revelation to guide them, had yet made\\na Law to themselves. Lucretius, indeed, with such\\nmaterial as Epicurus furnished, satisfied himself with\\nthe theory of a vast machine fortuitously constructed,\\nand acting by a Law that implied no Legislator and so\\ncomposing himself into a Stoical rather than Epicu-\\nrean severity of Attitude, sat down to contemplate the\\nmechanical Drama of the Universe which he was part\\nActor in; himself and all about him (as in his own\\nsublime description of the Roman Theatre) discoloured\\nwith the lurid reflex of the Curtain suspended between\\nthe Spectator and the Sun. Omar, more desperate, or\\nmore careless of any so complicated System as re-\\n1 Professor Cowell.\\n10", "height": "3415", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0056.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "OMAR K H AY YA M\\nsuited in nothing but hopeless Necessity, flung his own\\nGenius and Learning with a bitter or humorous jest into\\nthe general Ruin which their insufficient glimpses only\\nserved to reveal; and, pretending sensual pleasure as\\nthe serious purpose of Life, only diverted himself with\\nspeculative problems of Deity, Destiny, Matter and\\nSpirit, Good and Evil, and other such questions, easier\\nto start than to run down, and the pursuit of which\\nbecomes a very weary sport at last!\\nWith regard to the present Translation. The ori-\\nginal Rubaiyat (as, missing an Arabic Guttural, these\\nTetrastkhs are more musically called) are independent\\nStanzas, consisting each of four Lines of equal, though\\nvaried, Prosody sometimes alt rhyming, but oftener\\n(as here imitated) the third line a blank. Somewhat\\nas in the Greek Alcaic, where the penultimate line\\nseems to lift and suspend the Wave that falls over in\\nthe last. As usual with such kind of Oriental Verse,\\nthe Rubaiyat follow one another according to Alpha-\\nbetic Rhyme a strange succession of Grave and Gay.\\nThose here selected are strung into something of an\\nEclogue, with perhaps a less than equal proportion of\\nthe Drink and make-merry, which (genuine or not)\\nrecurs over-frequently in the Original. Either way,\\nthe Result is sad enough saddest perhaps when most\\nostentatiously merry more apt to move Sorrow than\\nAnger toward the old Tentmaker, who, after vainly\\nendeavouring to unshackle his Steps from Destiny, and\\nii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0057.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nto catch some authentic Glimpse of To-morrow, fell\\nback upon To-day (which has outlasted so many To-\\nmorrows as the only Ground he had got to stand\\nupon, however momentarily slipping from under his\\nFeet.\\n[From the Third Edition*\\nWhile the second Edition of this version of Omar\\nwas preparing, Monsieur Nicolas, French Consul at\\nResht, published a very careful and very good Edition\\nof the Text, from a lithograph copy at Teheran, com-\\nprising 464 Rubaiyat, with translation and notes of his\\nown.\\nMons. Nicolas, whose Edition has reminded me of\\nseveral things, and instructed me in others, does not\\nconsider Omar to be the material Epicurean that I\\nhave literally taken him for, but a Mystic, shadowing\\nthe Deity under the figure of Wine, Wine-bearer, etc.,\\nas Hafiz is supposed to do in short, a Sufi poet like\\nHafiz and the rest.\\nI cannot see reason to alter my opinion, formed as it\\nwas more than a dozen years ago 1 when Omar was\\nfirst shown me by one to whom I am indebted for all\\nI know of Oriental, and very much of other, literature.\\nHe admired Omar s Genius so much, that he would\\nhave adopted any such Interpretation of his meaning\\n1 [This was written in 1868.]\\n12", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0058.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "OMAR K H AY YA M\\nas Mons. Nicolas s if he could. 1 That he could not,\\nappears by his Paper in the Calcutta Review already so\\nlargely quoted in which he argues from the Poems\\nthemselves, as well as from what records remain of\\nthe Poet s Life.\\nAnd if more were needed to disprove Mons. Nicolas s\\nTheory, there is the Biographical Notice which he\\nhimself has drawn up in direct contradiction to the\\nInterpretation of the Poems given in his Notes. (See\\npp. xiii.-xiv. of his Preface.) Indeed I hardly knew\\npoor Omar was so far gone till his Apologist informed\\nme. For here we see that, whatever were the Wine\\nthat Hafiz drank and sang, the veritable Juice of the\\nGrape it was which Omar used, not only when carous-\\ning with his friends, but (says Mons. Nicolas) in order\\nto excite himself to that pitch of Devotion which\\nothers reached by cries and hurlemens. And yet,\\nwhenever Wine, Wine-bearer, etc., occur in the text\\nwhich is often enough Mons. Nicolas carefully anno-\\ntates Dieu, La Divinit6, etc. so carefully indeed\\nthat one is tempted to think that he was indoctrinated\\nby the Sufi with whom he read the Poems. (Note to\\nRub. ii. p. 8.) A Persian would naturally wish to vin-\\ndicate a distinguished Countryman and a Sufi to enrol\\n1 Perhaps would have edited the Poems himself some years ago.\\nHe may now as little approve of my Version on one side, as of Mons.\\nNicolas s Theory on the other.\\n13", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0059.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nhim in his own sect, which already comprises all the\\nchief poets in Persia.\\nWhat historical Authority has Mons. Nicolas to\\nshow that Omar gave himself up avec passion a\\nl 6tude de la philosophic des Soufis (Preface, p.\\nxiii.) The Doctrines of Pantheism, Materialism, Ne-\\ncessity, etc., were not peculiar to the Sufi nor to\\nLucretius before them nor to Epicurus before him\\nprobably the very original Irreligion of Thinking\\nmen from the first and very likely to be the spon-\\ntaneous growth of a Philosopher living in an Age of\\nsocial and political barbarism, under shadow of one\\nof the Two-and-Seventy Religions supposed to divide\\nthe world. Von Hammer (according to Sprenger s\\nOriental Catalogue) speaks of Omar as a Free-thinker,\\nand sl greed opponent of Sufism; perhaps because, while\\nholding much of their Doctrine, he would not pretend\\nto any inconsistent severity of morals. Sir W. Ouseley\\nhas written a note to something of the same effect on\\nthe fly-leaf of the Bodleian MS. And in two Rubaiyat\\nof Mons. Nicolas s own Edition Suf and Sufi are both\\ndisparagingly named.\\nNo doubt many of these Quatrains seem unaccount-\\nable unless mystically interpreted but many more as\\nunaccountable unless literally. Were the Wine spirit-\\nual, for instance, how wash the Body with it when\\ndead Why make cups of the dead clay to be filled\\nwith La Divinit6 by some succeeding Mystic?\\n14", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0060.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "OMAR K H AY YA M\\nMons. Nicolas himself is puzzled by some bizarres\\nand trop Orientales allusions and images d une\\nsensualit6 quelquefois revoltante indeed which\\nles convenances do not permit him to translate;\\nbut still which the reader cannot but refer to La\\nDivinite. No doubt also many of the Quatrains in\\nthe Teheran, as in the Calcutta, Copies are spurious\\nsuch Rubaiyzt being the common form of Epigram in\\nPersia. But this, at best, tells as much one way as\\nanother; nay, the Sufi, who may be considered the\\nScholar and Man of Letters in Persia, would be far\\nmore likely than the careless Epicure to interpolate\\nwhat favours his own view of the Poet. I observe\\nthat very few of the more mystical Quatrains are in\\nthe Bodleian MS., which must be one of the oldest, as\\ndated at Shiraz, A. H. 865, A. D. 1460. And this, I\\nthink, especially distinguishes Omar (I cannot help\\ncalling him by his no, not Christian familiar name)\\n1 A Note to Quatrain 234 admits that, however clear the mystical\\nmeaning of such Images must be to Europeans, they are not quoted\\nwithout rougissant even by laymen in Persia Quant aux\\ntermes de tendresse qui commencent ce quatrain, comme tant\\nd autres dans ce recueil, nos lecteurs, habitue s maintenant a\\nl 6tranget6 des expressions si souvent employees par Kheyam pour\\nrendre ses pens6es sur l amour divin, et a la singularity de ses images\\ntrop orientales, d une sensuality quelquefois revoltante, n auront pas\\nde peine a se persuader qu il s agit dela Divinite, bien que cette con-\\nviction soit vivement discut\u00c2\u00a3e par les moullahs musulmans et meme\\npar beaucoup de laiques, qui rougissent ventablement d une pareille\\nlicence de leur compatriote a 1 egard des choses spirituelles.\\n*5", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0061.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nfrom all other Persian Poets: That, whereas with\\nthem the Poet is lost in his Song, the Man in Allegory\\nand Abstraction; we seem to have the Man the\\nBonhomme Omar himself, with all his Humours and\\nPassions, as frankly before us as if we were really at\\nTable with him, after the Wine had gone round.\\nI must say that I, for one, never wholly believed in\\nthe Mysticism of Hafiz. It does not appear there was\\nany danger in holding and singing Sufi Pantheism, so\\nlong as the Poet made his Salaam to Mohammed at\\nthe beginning and end of his Song. Under such condi-\\ntions Jelaluddin, Jami, Attar, and others sang; using\\nWine and Beauty indeed as Images to illustrate, not\\nas a Mask to hide, the Divinity they were celebrating.\\nPerhaps some Allegory less liable to mistake or abuse\\nhad been better among so inflammable a People much\\nmore so when, as some think with Hafiz and Omar, the\\nabstract is not only likened to, but identified with, the\\nsensual Image hazardous, if not to the Devotee him-\\nself, yet to his weaker Brethren and worse for the\\nProfane in proportion as the Devotion of the Initiated\\ngrew warmer. And all for what? To be tantalized\\nwith Images of sensual enjoyment which must be\\nrenounced if one would approximate a God, who,\\naccording to the Doctrine, is Sensual Matter as well as\\nSpirit, and into whose Universe one expects uncon-\\nsciously to merge after Death, without hope of any\\nposthumous Beatitude in another world to compensate\\n16", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0062.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "OMAR K H AY YA M\\nfor all one s self-denial in this. Lucretius s blind\\nDivinity certainly merited, and probably got, as much\\nself-sacrifice as this of the Sufi; and the burden of\\nOmar s Song if not Let us eat is assuredly\\nLet us drink, for To-morow we die And if Hafiz\\nmeant quite otherwise by a similar language, he surely\\nmiscalculated when he devoted his Life and Genius to\\nso equivocal a Psalmody as, from his Day to this,\\nhas been said and sung by any rather than Spiritual\\nWorshippers.\\nHowever, as there is some traditional presumption,\\nand certainly the opinion of some learned men, in\\nfavour of Omar s being a Sufi and even something of\\na Saint those who please may so interpret his Wine\\nand Cup-bearer. On the other hand, as there is far\\nmore historical certainty of his being a Philosopher of\\nscientific Insight and Ability far beyond that of the\\nAge and Country he lived in of such moderate\\nworldly Ambition as becomes a Philosopher, and such\\nmoderate wants as rarely satisfy a Debauchee other\\nreaders may be content to believe with me that, while\\nthe Wine Omar celebrates is simply the Juice of the\\nGrape, he bragged more than he drank of it, in very\\ndefiance perhaps of that Spiritual Wine which left its\\nNotaries sunk in Hypocrisy or Disgust.\\n*7", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0063.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0064.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "THE RUBAlYAT OF\\nOMAR KHAYYAM\\nWAKE For the Sun, who scatter d into flight\\nThe Stars before him from the Field of Night,\\nDrives Night along with them from Heav n,\\nand strikes\\nThe Sultan s Turret with a Shaft of Light.\\nii\\nBefore the phantom of False morning died,\\nMethought a Voice within the Tavern cried,\\nWhen all the Temple is prepared within,\\nWhy nods the drowsy Worshipper outside\\nin\\nAnd, as the Cock crew, those who stood before\\nThe Tavern shouted\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Open then the Door!\\nYou know how little while we have to stay,\\nAnd, once departed, may return no more.\\nIV\\nNow the New Year reviving old Desires,\\nThe thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,\\nWhere the White Hand of Moses on the Bough\\nPuts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.\\n19", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0065.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nV\\nIrani indeed is gone with all his Rose,\\nAnd jamshyd s Sev n-ring d Cup where no one knows;\\nJut still a Ruby kindles in the Vine,\\nAnd many a Garden by the Water blows.\\nVI\\nAnd David s lips are lockt; but in divine\\nHigh-piping Pehlevi, with Wine Wine! Wine!\\nRed Wine! the Nightingale cries to the Rose\\nThat sallow cheek of hers to incarnadine.\\nVII\\nCome, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring\\nYour Winter-garment of Repentance fling:\\nThe Bird of Time has but a little way\\nTo flutter and the Bird is on the Wing.\\nVIII\\nWhether at Naish pur or Babylon,\\nWhether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,\\nThe Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,\\nThe Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.\\n20", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0066.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nIX\\nEach Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say;\\nYes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?\\nAnd this first Summer month that brings the Rose\\nShall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.\\nWell, let it take them What have we to do\\nWith Kaikobad the Great, or Kaikhosru?\\nLet Zal and Rustum bluster as they will,\\nOr Hatim call to Supper heed not you.\\nXI\\nWith me along the strip of Herbage strown\\nThat just divides the desert from the sown,.\\nWhere name of Slave and Sultan is forgot\\nAnd Peace to Mahmud on his golden Throne!\\nXII\\nA Book of Verses underneath the Bough,\\nA Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread\u00e2\u0080\u0094 and Thou\\nBeside me singing in the Wilderness\\nOh, Wilderness were Paradise enow\\n21", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0067.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXIH\\nSome for the Glories of This World and some\\nSigh for the Prophet s Paradise to come;\\nAh, take the Cash, and let the Credit go,\\nNor heed the rumble of a distant Drum\\nXIV\\nLook to the blowing Rose about us Lo,\\nLaughing, she says, into the world I blow,\\nAt once the silken tassel of my Purse\\nTear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw.\\nxv\\nAnd those who husbanded the Golden grain,\\nAnd those who flung it to the winds like Rain,\\nAlike to no such aureate Earth are turn d\\nAs, buried once, Men want dug up again.\\nXVI\\nThe Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon\\nTurns Ashes or it prospers and anon,\\nLike Snow upon the Desert s dusty Face,\\nLighting a little hour or two is gone.\\n22", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0068.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nXVII\\nThink, in this batter d Caravanserai\\nWhose Portals are alternate Night and Day,\\nHow Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp\\nAbode his destined Hour, and went his way.\\nXVIII\\nThey say the Lion and the Lizard keep\\nThe Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep\\nAnd Bahram, that great Hunter the Wild Ass\\nStamps o er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.\\nXIX\\nI sometimes think that never blows so red\\nThe Rose as where some buried Caesar bled\\nThat every Hyacinth the Garden wears\\nDropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.\\nxx\\nAnd this reviving Herb whose tender Green\\nFledges the River-Lip on which we lean\\nAh, lean upon it lightly! for who knows\\nFrom what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!\\n23", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0069.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXXI\\nAh, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears\\nTo-day of past Regrets and Future Fears:\\nTo-morrow I Why, To-morrow I may be\\nMyself with Yesterday s Sev n thousand Years.\\nXXII\\nFor some we loved, the loveliest and the best\\nThat from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest,\\nHave drunk their Cup a Round or two before,\\nAnd one by one crept silently to rest.\\nXXIII\\nAnd we, that now make merry in the Room\\nThey left, and Summer dresses in new bloom,\\nOurselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth\\nDescend ourselves to make a Couch for whom\\nXXIV\\nAh, make the most of what we yet may spend,\\nBefore we too into the Dust descend\\nDust into Dust and under Dust to lie,\\nSans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and\u00e2\u0080\u0094 sans End 1\\n24", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0070.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nXXV\\nAlike for those who for To-day prepare,\\nAnd those that after some To-morrow stare,\\nA Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries,\\nFools! your Reward is neither Here nor There.\\nXXVI\\nWhy, all the Saints and Sages who discuss d\\nOf the Two Worlds so wisely they are thrust\\nLike foolish Prophets forth their Words to Scorn\\nAre scatter d, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.\\nXXVII\\nMyself when young did eagerly frequent\\nDoctor and Saint, and heard great argument\\nAbout it and about but evermore\\nCame out by the same door where in I went.\\nXXVIII\\nWith them the seed of Wisdom did I sow,\\nAnd with mine own hand wr ht to make it grow;\\nAnd this was all the Harvest that I reap d\\nI came like Water, and like Wind I go.\\n*5", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0071.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "RUBAlYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXXIX\\nInto this Universe, and Why not knowing\\nNor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing;\\nAnd out of it, as Wind along the Waste,\\nI know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.\\nXXX\\nWhat, without asking, hither hurried Whence?\\nAnd, without asking, Whither hurried hence\\nOh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine\\nMust drown the memory of that insolence\\nXXXI\\nUp from Earth s Centre through the Seventh Gate\\nI rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,\\nAnd many a Knot unravel d by the Road;\\nBut not the Master-knot of Human Fate.\\nXXXII\\nThere was the Door to which I found no Key;\\nThere was the Veil through which I might not see\\nSome little talk awhile of Me and Thee\\nThere was and then no more of Thee and Me.\\n26", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0072.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nXXXIII\\nEarth could not answer nor the Seas that mourn\\nIn flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn\\nNor rolling Heaven, with all his Signs reveal d\\nAnd hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn.\\nxxxiv\\nThen of the Thee in Me who works behind\\nThe Veil, I lifted up my hands to find\\nA Lamp amid the Darkness and I heard,\\nAs from Without\u00e2\u0080\u0094 The Me within Thee blind!\\nxxxv\\nThen to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn\\nI lean d, the Secret of my Life to learn:\\nAnd Lip to Lip it murmur d While you live,\\nDrink! for, once dead, you never shall return.\\nxxxvi\\nI think the Vessel, that with fugitive\\nArticulation answer d, once did live,\\nAnd drink and Ah the passive Lip I kiss d,\\nHow many Kisses might it take and give\\n27", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0073.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXXXVII\\nFor I remember stopping by the way\\nTo watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay:\\nAnd with its all-obliterated Tongue\\nIt murmur d- Gently, Brother, gently, pray!\\nXXXVIII\\nAnd has not such a Story from of Old\\nDown Man s successive generations roll d\\nOf such a clod of saturated Earth\\nCast by the Maker into Human mould\\nxxxix\\nAnd not a drop that from our Cups we throw\\nFor Earth to drink of, but may steal below\\nTo quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye\\nThere hidden far beneath, and long ago.\\nXL\\nAs then the Tulip for her morning sup\\nOf Heav nly Vintage from the soil looks up,\\nDo you devoutly do the like, till Heav n\\nTo Earth invert you like an empty Cup.\\n28", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0074.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nXLI\\nPerplext no more with Human or Divine,\\nTo-morrow s tangle to the winds resign,\\nAnd lose your fingers in the tresses of\\nThe Cypress-slender Minister of Wine.\\nXLII\\nAnd if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,\\nEnd in what All begins and ends in Yes;\\nThink then you are To-day what Yesterday\\nYou were To-morrow you shall not be less.\\nXLIII\\nSo when that Angel of the darker Drink\\nAt last shall find you by the river-brink,\\nAnd, offering his Cup, invite your Soul\\nForth to your Lips to quaff you shall not shrink.\\nXLIV\\nWhy, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,\\nAnd naked on the Air of Heaven ride,\\nWer t not a Shame wer t not a Shame for him\\nIn this clay carcase crippled to abide?\\n29", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0075.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXLV\\nT is but a Tent where takes his one day s rest\\nA Sultan to the realm of Death addrest\\nThe Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash\\nStrikes, and prepares it for another Guest.\\nXLVI\\nAnd fear not lest Existence closing your\\nAccount, and mine, should know the like no more;\\nThe Eternal Saki from that Bowl has pour d\\nMillions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.\\nXLVII\\nWhen You and I behind the Veil are past,\\nOh, but the long, long while the World shall last,\\nWhich of our Coming and Departure heeds\\nAs the Sea s self should heed a pebble-cast.\\nXLVIII\\nA Moment s Halt a momentary taste\\nOf Being from the Well amid the Waste\\nAnd Lo the phantom Caravan has reacht\\nThe Nothing it set out from Oh, make haste!\\n30\\n1", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0076.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nXLIX\\nWould you that spangle of Existence spend\\nAbout the secret quick about it, Friend!\\nA Hair perhaps divides the False and True\\nAnd upon what, prithee, may life depend?\\nL\\nA Hair perhaps divides the False and True\\nYes and a single Alif were the clue\\nCould you but find it to the Treasure-house,\\nAnd peradventure to The Master too\\nLI\\nWhose secret Presence, through Creation s veins\\nRunning Quicksilver-like eludes your pains\\nTaking all shapes from Man to Mahi and\\nThey change and perish all but He remains\\nLII\\nA moment guess d then back behind the Fold\\nImmerst of Darkness round the Drama roll d\\nWhich, for the Pastime of Eternity,\\nHe doth Himself contrive, enact, behold.\\n3i", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0077.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLIII\\nBut if in vain, down on the stubborn floor\\nOf Earth, and up to Heav n s unopening Door,\\nYou gaze TO-DAY, while You are You how then\\nTo-morrow, You when shall be You no more?\\nLIV\\nWaste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit\\nOf This and That endeavour and dispute\\nBetter be jocund with the fruitful Grape\\nThan sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.\\nLV\\nYou know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse\\nI made a Second Marriage in my house\\nDivorced old barren Reason from my Bed,\\nAnd took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.\\nLVI\\nFor Is and IS-NOT though with Rule and Line\\nAnd Up-and-down by Logic I define,\\nOf all that one should care to fathom, I\\nWas never deep in anything but Wine.\\n32", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0078.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nLVII\\nAh, but my Computations, People say,\\nReduced the Year to better reckoning? Nay,\\nTwas only striking from the Calendar\\nUnborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday.\\nLVIII\\nAnd lately, by the Tavern Door agape,\\nCame shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape\\nBearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and\\nHe bid me taste of it; and twas the Grape!\\nLIX\\nThe Grape that can with Logic absolute\\nThe Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute\\nThe sovereign Alchemist that in a trice\\nLife s leaden metal into Gold transmute\\nLX\\nThe mighty Mahmud, Allah-breathing Lord,\\nThat all the misbelieving and black Horde\\nOf Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul\\nScatters before him with his whirlwind Sword.\\n3 33", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0079.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYXT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLXI\\nWhy, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare\\nBlaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare?\\nA Blessing, we should use it, should we not?\\nAnd if a Curse why, then, Who set it there\\nLXII\\nI must abjure the Balm of Life, I must,\\nScared by some After-reckoning ta en on trust,\\nOr lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink,\\nTo fill the Cup when crumbled into Dust!\\nLXIII\\nOh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise\\nOne thing at least is certain ^bis Life flies\\nOne thing is certain and the rest is Lies\\nThe Flower that once has blown for ever dies.\\nLXIV\\nStrange, is it not? that of the myriads who\\nBefore us pass d the door of Darkness through,\\nNot one returns to tell us of the Road,\\nWhich to discover we must travel too.\\n34", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0080.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nLXV\\nThe Revelations of Devout and Learn d\\nWho rose before us, and as Prophets burn d,\\nAre all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep\\nThey told their comrades, and to Sleep return d.\\nLXVI\\nI sent my Soul through the Invisible,\\nSome letter of that After-life to spell\\nAnd by and by my Soul return d to me,\\nAnd answer d I Myself am Heav n and Hell\\nLXVII\\nHeav n but the Vision of fulfill d Desire,\\nAnd Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire,\\nCast on the Darkness into which Ourselves,\\nSo late emerged from, shall so soon expire.\\nLXVIII\\nWe are no other than a moving row\\nOf Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go\\nRound with the Sun-illumined Lantern held\\nIn Midnight by the Master of the Show\\n35", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0081.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLXIX\\nBut helpless Pieces of the Game He plays\\nUpon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days\\nHither and thither moves, and checks, and slays,\\nAnd one by one back in the Closet lays.\\nLXX\\nThe Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes,\\nBut Here or There as strikes the Player goes\\nAnd He that toss d you down into the Field,\\nHe knows about it all he knows HE knows!\\nLXXI\\n^Lw Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,\\nMoves on nor all your Piety nor Wit\\nShall lure it back to cancel half a Line,\\nNor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.\\nLXXII\\nAnd that inverted Bowl they call the Sky,\\nWhereunder crawling coop d we live and die,\\nLift not your hands to It for help for It\\nAs impotently moves as you or I.\\n36", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0082.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nLXXIII\\nWith Earth s first Clay They did the Last Man knead,\\nAnd there of the Last Harvest sow d the Seed\\nAnd the first Morning of Creation wrote\\nWhat the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.\\nLXXIV\\nYesterday This Day s Madness did prepare\\nTo-MORROW S Silence, Triumph, or Despair\\nDrink for you know not whence you came, nor why\\nDrink! for you know not why you go, nor where.\\nLXXV\\nI tell you this When, started from the Goal,\\nOver the flaming shoulders of the Foal\\nOf Heav n Parwin and Mushtari they flung,\\nIn my predestin d Plot of Dust and Soul\\nLXXVI\\nThe Vine had struck a fibre which about\\nIf clings my being let the Dervish flout;\\nOf my Base metal may be filed a Key\\nThat shall unlock the Door he howls without.\\n37", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0083.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLXXVII\\nAnd this I know whether the one True Light\\nKindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite,\\nOne Flash of It within the Tavern caught\\nBetter than in the Temple lost outright.\\nLXXVIII\\nWhat out of senseless Nothing to provoke\\nA conscious Something to resent the yoke\\nOf unpermitted Pleasure, under pain\\nOf Everlasting Penalties, if broke\\nLXXIX\\nWhat! from his helpless Creature be repaid\\nPure Gold for what he lent him dross-allay d\\nSue for a Debt he never did contract,\\nAnd cannot answer Oh the sorry trade\\nLXXX\\nOh Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin\\nBeset the Road I was to wander in,\\nThou wilt not with Predestined Evil round\\nEnmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin\\n38", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0084.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nLXXXI\\nOh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make,\\nAnd ev n with Paradise devise the Snake\\nFor all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man\\nIs blacken d Man s forgiveness give and take\\nLXXXII\\nAs under cover of departing Day\\nSlunk hunger-stricken Ramazan away,\\nOnce more within the Potter s house alone\\nI stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay.\\nLXXXIII\\nShapes of all Sorts and Sizes, great and small,\\nThat stood along the floor and by the wall\\nAnd some loquacious Vessels were and some\\nListen d perhaps, but never talk d at all.\\n39", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0085.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLXXXIV\\nSaid one among them Surely not in vain\\nMy substance of the common Earth was ta en\\nAnd to this Figure moulded, to be broke,\\nOr trampled back to shapeless Earth again.\\nLXXXV\\nThen said a Second Ne er a peevish Boy\\nWould break the Bowl from which he drank in joy;\\nAnd He that with his hand the Vessel made\\nWill surely not in after Wrath destroy.\\nLXXXVI\\nAfter a momentary silence spake\\nSome Vessel of a more ungainly Make;\\nThey sneer at me for leaning all awry\\nWhat! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?\\nLXXXVII\\nWhereat some one of the loquacious Lot\\nI think a Sufi pipkin waxing hot\\nAll this of Pot and Potter Tell me then,\\nWho is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?\\n40", "height": "3321", "width": "2445", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0086.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nLXXXVIII\\nWhy, said another, Some there are who tell\\nOf one who threatens he will toss to Hell\\nThe luckless Pots he marr d in making Pish\\nHe s a Good Fellow, and twill all be well.\\nLXXXIX\\nWell, murmur d one, Let whoso make or buy,\\nMy Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry:\\nBut fill me with the old familiar Juice,\\nMethinks I might recover by and by.\\nxc\\nSo while the Vessels one by one were speaking,\\nThe little Moon look d in that all were seeking:\\nAnd then they jogg d each other, Brother! Brother!\\nNow for the Porter s shoulder-knot a-creaking\\n4i", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0087.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXCI\\nAh, with the Grape my fading Life provide,\\nAnd wash the Body whence the Life has died,\\nAnd lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf,\\nBy some not unfrequented Garden-side.\\nXCII\\nThat ev n my buried Ashes such a snare\\nOf Vintage shall fling up into the Air\\nAs not a True-believer passing by\\nBut shall be overtaken unaware.\\nXCIII\\nIndeed the Idols I have loved so long\\nHave done my credit in this World much wrong\\nHave drown d my Glory in a shallow Cup,\\nAnd sold my Reputation for a Song.\\nxciv\\nIndeed, indeed, Repentance oft before\\nI swore but was I sober when I swore\\nAnd then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand\\nMy thread-bare Penitence apieces tore.\\n42", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0088.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "Fitzgerald version\\nxcv\\nAnd much as Wine has play d the Infidel,\\nAnd robb d me of my Robe of Honour Well,\\nI wonder often what the Vintners buy\\nOne half so precious as the stuff they sell.\\nxcvi\\nYet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose\\nThat Youth s sweet-scented manuscript should close\\nThe Nightingale that in the branches sang,\\nAh whence, and whither flown again, who knows\\nxcvn\\nWould but the Desert of the Fountain yield\\nOne glimpse if dimly, yet indeed, reveal d,\\nTo which the fainting Traveller might spring,\\nAs springs the trampled herbage of the field!\\nxcvm\\nWould but some winged Angel ere too late\\nArrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate,\\nAnd make the stern Recorder otherwise\\nEnregister, or quite obliterate\\n43", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0089.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXCIX\\nAh Love! could you and I with Him conspire\\nTo grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,\\nWould not we shatter it to bits and then\\nRe-mould it nearer to the Heart s Desire\\nc\\nYon rising Moon that looks for us again\\nHow oft hereafter will she wax and wane\\nHow oft hereafter rising look for us\\nThrough this same Garden and for one in vain\\nci\\nAnd when like her, oh Saki, you shall pass\\nAmong the Guests Star-scatter d on the Grass,\\nAnd in your joyous errand reach the spot\\nWhere I made One turn down an empty Glass\\nTAMAM\\n44", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0090.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "NOTES BY EDWARD FITZGERALD\\nThe references are, except in the first note only, to the stanzas of the\\nFourth Edition, The numbering is the same as in the Fifth Edition.\\n(Stanza I.) Flinging a Stone into the Cup was the signal for To\\nHorse in the Desert.\\n(II.) The False Dawn; Subhi Kazib, a transient Light on the\\nHorizon about an hour before the Subhi sadik, or True Dawn a well-\\nknown Phenomenon in the East.\\n(IV.) New Year. Beginning with the Vernal Equinox, it must be\\nremembered; and (howsoever the old Solar Year is practically super-\\nseded by the clumsy Lunar Year that dates from the Mohammedan\\nHijra) still commemorated by a Festival that is said to have been\\nappointed by the very Jamshyd whom Omar so often talks of, and\\nwhose yearly Calendar he helped to rectify.\\nThe sudden approach and rapid advance of the Spring, says Mr.\\nBinning, are very striking. Before the Snow is well off the Ground,\\nthe Trees burst into Blossom, and the Flowers start from the Soil.\\nAt Now Rooz {their New Year s Day) the Snow was lying in patches\\non the Hills and in the shaded Vallies, while the Fruit-trees in the\\nGardens were budding beautifully, and green Plants and Flowers\\nspringing up on the Plains on every side\\nAnd on old Hyems Chin and icy Crown\\nAn odorous Chaplet of sweet Summer buds\\nIs, as in mockery, set.\\nAmong the Plants newly appeared I recognized some old Acquaint-\\nances I had not seen for many a Year among these, two varieties of\\nthe Thistle a coarse species of Daisy, like the Horse-gowan red\\nand white Clover the Dock the blue Corn-flower and that vulgar\\nHerb the Dandelion rearing its yellow crest on the Banks of the\\nWater-courses. The Nightingale was not yet heard, for the Rose\\nwas not yet blown but an almost identical Blackbird and Wood-\\npecker helped to make up something of a North-country Spring.\\nThe White Hand of Moses. Exodus iv. 6 where Moses draws\\nforth his Hand not, according to the Persians, leprous as Snow/\\nbut white, as our May-blossom in Spring perhaps. According to\\nthem also the Healing Power of Jesus resided in his Breath.\\n45", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0091.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\n(V.) Iram, planted by King Shaddad, and now sunk somewhere in\\nthe Sands of Arabia. Jamshyd s Seven-ring d Cup was typical of the\\n7 Heavens, 7 Planets, 7 Seas, c, and was a Divining Cup,\\n(VI.) Pehlevu the old Heroic Sanskrit of Persia. Hafiz also speaks\\nof the Nightingale s Pehl ui, which did not change with the People s.\\nI am not sure if the fourth line refers to the Red Rose looking\\nsickly, or to the Yellow Rose that ought to be Red Red, White, and\\nYellow Roses all common in Persia. I think that Southey, in his\\nCommon-Place Book, quotes from some Spanish author about the\\nRose being White till 10 o clock; Rosa Perfecta at 2; and per-\\nfecta incarnada at 5.\\n(X.) Rustum, the Hercules of Persia, and Zal his Father,\\nwhose exploits are among the most celebrated in the Shah-nama.\\nHatim Tai, a well-known type of Oriental Generosity.\\n(XIII.) A Drum beaten outside a Palace.\\n(XIV.) That is, the Rose s Golden Centre.\\n(XVIII.) Persepolis; call d also Takht-i-Jamshyd The Throne of\\nJamshyd, King Splendid/ of the mythical Peshdadian Dynasty, and\\nsupposed (according to the Shah-nama) to have been founded and\\nbuilt by him. Others refer it to the Work of the Genie King, Jan Ibn\\nJan who also built the Pyramids before the time of Adam.\\nBahrain Giir Ba.hra.rn of the Wild Ass a Sassanian Sovereign\\nhad also his Seven Castles (like the King of Bohemia each of a dif-\\nferent Colour: each with a Royal Mistress within; each of whom\\ntells him a Story, as told in one of the most famous Poems of Persia,\\nwritten by Amir Khusraw all these Sevens also figuring (according\\nto Eastern Mysticism) the Seven Heavens; and perhaps the Book\\nitself that Eighth, into which the mystical Seven transcend, and\\nwithin which they revolve. The Ruins of Three of those Towers\\nare yet shown by the Peasantry; as also the Swamp in which\\nBahram sunk, like the Master of Ravenswood, while pursuing his\\nGiir,\\n46", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0092.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "NOTES\\nThe Palace thai to Heatfn his pillars threw,\\nAnd Kings the forehead on his threshold drew\\nI saw the solitary Ringdove there,\\nAnd Coo coo, coo/ she cried; and Coo, coo, coo.\\nThis Quatrain Mr. Binning found, among several of Hafiz and\\nothers, inscribed by some stray hand among the ruins of Persepolis.\\nThe Ringdove s ancient Pehlevi Coo, Coo, Coo, signifies also in Per-\\nsian Where? Where? Where? In Attar s Bird-parliament\\nshe is reproved by the Leader of the Birds for sitting still, and for\\never harping on that one note of lamentation for her lost Yusuf.\\nApropos of Omar s Red Roses in Stanza xix, I am reminded of an\\nold English Superstition, that our Anemone Pulsatilla, or purple\\nPasque Flower (which grows plentifully about the Fleam Dyke,\\nnear Cambridge), grows only where Danish Blood has been spilt.\\n(XXI.) A thousand years to each Planet.\\n(XXXI.) Saturn, Lord of the Seventh Heaven.\\n(XXXII.) ME-AND-THEE: some dividual Existence or Person-\\nality distinct from the Whole.\\n(XXXVII.) One of the Persian Poets Attar, I think has a\\npretty story about this. A thirsty Traveller dips his hand into a\\nSpring of Water to drink from. By-and-by comes another who\\ndraws up and drinks from an earthen Bowl, and then departs, leaving\\nhis Bowl behind him. The first Traveller takes it up for another\\ndraught but is surprised to find that the same Water which had\\ntasted sweet from his own hand tastes bitter from the earthen Bowl.\\nBut a Voice from Heaven, I think tells him the clay from which\\nthe Bowl is made was once Man; and, into whatever shape renewed,\\ncan never lose the bitter flavour of Mortality.\\n(XXXIX.) The custom of throwing a little Wine on the ground\\nbefore drinking still continues in Persia, and perhaps generally in the\\nEast. Mons. Nicolas considered it un signe de lib^ralite et en\\nmeme temps un avertissement que le buveur doit vider sa coupe\\n47", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0093.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "RUBAlYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\njusqu a la derniere goutte. Is it not more likely an ancient Super-\\nstition; a Libation to propitiate Earth, or make her an Accomplice\\nin the illicit Revel Or, perhaps, to divert the Jealous Eye by some\\nsacrifice of superfluity, as with the Ancients of the West With\\nOmar we see something more is signified the precious Liquor is not\\nlost, but sinks into the ground to refresh the dust of some poor\\nWine-worshipper foregone.\\nThus Hafiz, copying Omar in so many ways When thou drinkest\\nWine pour a draught on the ground. Wherefore fear the Sin which\\nbrings to another Gain\\n(XLIII.) According to one beautiful Oriental Legend, AzrSel\\naccomplishes his mission by holding to the nostril an Apple from the\\nTree of Life.\\nThis and the two following Stanzas would have been withdrawn,\\nas somewhat de trop, from the Text, but for advice which I least like\\nto disregard.\\n(LI.) From Mah to Mahi; from Fish to Moon.\\n(LVI.) A Jest, of course, at his Studies. A curious mathematical\\nQuatrain of Omar s has been pointed out to me; the more curi-\\nous because almost exactly parallel d by some Verses of Doctor\\nDonne s, that are quoted in Izaak Walton s Lives Here is Omar\\nYou and I are the image of a pair of compasses though we have\\ntwo heads (sc. our feet) we have one body when we have fixed the\\ncentre for our circle, we bring our heads (sc. feet) together at the\\nend. Dr. Donne:\\nIf we be two, we two are so\\nAs stiff twin-compasses are two\\nThy Soul, the fixt foot, makes no show\\nTo move, but does if the other do.\\nAnd though thine in the centre sit,\\nYet when my other far does roam,\\nThine leans and hearkens after it,\\nAnd grows erect as mine comes home.\\n4 8", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0094.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "NOTES\\nSuch thou must be to me, who must\\nLike the other foot obliquely run\\nThy firmness makes my circle just,\\nAnd me to end where I begun.\\n(LIX.) The Seventy-two Religions supposed to divide the World,\\nincluding Islamism, as some think but others not.\\n(LX.) Alluding to Sultan Mahmud s Conquest of India and its\\ndark people.\\n(LXVIII.) Fknusi khiyaU a Magic-lantern still used in India; the\\ncylindrical Interior being painted with various Figures, and so lightly\\npoised and ventilated as to revolve round the lighted Candle within.\\n(LXX.) A very mysterious Line in the Original\\ndanad danad danad\\nbreaking off something like our Wood-pigeon s Note, which she is\\nsaid to take up just where she left off.\\n(LXXV.) Parwin and Mushtari The Pleiads and Jupiter.\\n(LXXXVII.) This Relation of Pot and Potter to Man and his\\nMaker figures far and wide in the Literature of the World, from the\\ntime of the Hebrew Prophets to the present when it may finally\\ntake the name of Pot theism, by which Mr. Carlyle ridiculed Ster-\\nling s Pantheism. My Sheikh, whose knowledge flows in from all\\nquarters, writes to me\\nApropos of old Omar s Pots, did I ever tell you the sentence I\\nfound in Bishop Pearson on the Creed Thus are we wholly at\\nthe disposal of His will, and our present and future condition framed\\nand ordered by His free, but wise and just decrees. Hath not the pot-\\nter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto\\nhonour, and another unto dishonour? (Rom. ix. 21.) And can that\\nearth-artificer have a freer power over his brother potsherd (both being\\nmade of the same metal), than God hath over him, who, by the\\n4 49", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0095.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nstrange fecundity of His omnipotent power, first made the clay out\\nof nothing, and then him out of that\\nAnd again from a very different quarter: I had to refer the\\nother day to Aristophanes, and came by chance on a curious Speak-\\ning-pot story in the Vespae, which I had quite forgotten.\\n*iXok\\\\\u00e2\u0082\u00ac W v. Akov\u00e2\u0082\u00ac, |j.4| J \u00e2\u0082\u00acvy ev Zvpdpei yvvfi ttotc 1. 1435\\nKaT\u00e2\u0082\u00ac0| \u00e2\u0082\u00acX VOV.\\nKaT-fjYopos. Taw iy b napTvpojAai.\\n*t. Ovxivos olv tx\u00c2\u00b0 v Tl v* lircnapTvpaTO\\nE10* tj Svpapiris etircv, el val Tav Kopav\\nT fjv jxapTvpfav ravrr\\\\v Ido-as, \u00c2\u00abv rdxci\\n\u00e2\u0082\u00acw\u00c2\u00a38\u00e2\u0082\u00ac T(iov iirpCw, vovv av ctxcs irXciova.\\nThe Pot calls a bystander to be a witness to his bad treatment.\\nThe woman says, If, by Proserpine, instead of all this testifying\\n(comp. Cuddie and his mother in Old Mortality you would buy\\nyourself a rivet, it would show more sense in you The Scholiast\\nexplains echinus as dtyyos ti 4k Kcpajjiov.\\nOne more illustration for the oddity s sake from the Autobiog-\\nraphy of a Cornish Rector, by the late James Hamley Tregenna,\\n1871.\\nThere was one old Fellow in our Company he was so like a\\nFigure in the Pilgrim s Progress that Richard always calls him the\\nALLEGORY, with a long white beard a rare Appendage in those\\ndays and a Face the colour of which seemed to have been baked\\nin, like the Faces one used to see on Earthenware Jugs. In our\\nCountry-dialect Earthenware is called Clome so the Boys of the\\nVillage used to shout after him Go back to the Potter, old Clome-\\nface, and get baked over again. For the Allegory, though shrewd\\nenough in most things, had the reputation of being S3.ift-ba.ked/\\ni.e., of weak intellect.\\n(XC.) At the Close of the Fasting Month, Ramazan (which makes\\nthe Musulman unhealthy and unamiable), the first Glimpse of the\\nNew Moon (who rules their division of the Year) is looked for with\\n50", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0096.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "NOTES\\nthe utmost Anxiety, and hailed with Acclamation. Then it is that the\\nPorter s Knot may be heard toward the Cellar, Omar has else-\\nwhere a pretty Quatrain about the same Moon:\\nBe of Good Cheer the sullen Month will die,\\nAnd a young Moon requite us by and by\\nLook how the Old One, meagre, bent, and wan\\nWith Age and Fast, is fainting from the Sky\\n51", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0097.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "VARIATIONS IN THE TEXT\\nOF THE FIRST, SECOND, AND THIRD EDI-\\nTIONS OF FITZGERALD S TRANSLATION\\nI x Awake for Morning in the Bowl of Night\\nist Ed. Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight\\nAnd Lo the Hunter of the East has caught\\nThe Sultan s Turret in a Noose of Light.\\n2d Ed. Wake For the Sun behind yon Eastern height\\nHas chased the Session of the Stars from Night;\\nAnd, to the field of Heav n ascending, strikes\\nThe Sultan s Turret with a Shaft of Light.\\nII Dreaming when Dawn s Left Hand was in the Sky\\nist Ed. I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,\\nAwake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup\\nBefore Life s Liquor in its Cup be dry.\\n2d Ed. Why lags the drowsy Worshipper outside?\\nV Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose,\\nist Ed. And Jamshyd s Sev n-ring d Cup where no one knows\\nBut still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,\\nAnd still a Garden by the Water blows.\\n2d 3d Eds. But still a Ruby gushes from the Vine,\\nVI Red Wine! the Nightingale cries to the Rose\\nist Ed. That yellow Cheek of her s to incarnadine.\\nVII Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring\\nist Ed. The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:\\nThe Bird of Time has but a little way\\nTo fly and Lo the Bird is on the Wing.\\nIX And look a thousand Blossoms with the Day\\nist Ed. Woke and a thousand scatter d into Clay:\\n2d Ed. Morning a thousand Roses brings, you say\\nVariations are numbered according to the quatrains of the Fourth Edition.\\n52", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0098.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "VARIATIONS IN THE TEXT\\nX But come with old Khayyam, and leave the Lot\\ni st Ed. Of Kaikobad and Kaikhosru forgot\\nLet Rustum lay about him as he will,\\nOr Hatim Tai cry Supper heed them not.\\n2d Ed. Let Rustum cry To Battle as he likes,\\nOr Hatim Tai To Supper heed not you.\\n3d Ed. Let Zal and Rustum thunder as they will,\\nXI With me along some Strip of Herbage strown\\n1st Ed. That just divides the desert from the sown,\\nWhere name of Slave and Sultan scarce is known,\\nAnd pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne.\\nXII Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,\\n1st Ed. A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse and Thou\\nBeside me singing in the Wilderness\\nAnd Wilderness is Paradise enow.\\n2d Ed. Here with a little Bread beneath the Bough,\\nXIII How sweet is mortal Sovranty think some:\\n1st Ed. Others How blest the Paradise to come!\\nAh, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest;\\nOh, the brave Music of a distant Drum\\n2d Ed. Ah, take the Cash, and let the Promise go,\\nNor heed the music of a distant Drum\\nXIV Look to the Rose that blows about us Lo,\\n1st Ed.\\nXVI Lighting a little hour or two was gone.\\n2d Ed.\\nXVII Think, in this batter d Caravanserai\\n1st Ed. Whose Doorways are alternate Night and Day,\\nHow Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp\\nAbode his Hour or two, and went his way.\\n53", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0099.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "RUBAlYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXVIII\\nist Ed.\\nXIX\\nist Ed.\\nXX\\nist Ed.\\n2d Ed.\\nXXI\\nist Ed.\\nXXII\\nist Ed.\\nXXIII\\nist Ed.\\nXXV\\nist Ed.\\nStamps o er his Head, and he lies fast asleep.\\nDropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.\\nAnd this delightful Herb whose tender Green\\nFledges the River s Lip on which we lean\\nAnd this delightful Herb whose living Green\\nTo-morrow for To-morro*w I\\nLo! some we loved, the loveliest and best\\nThat Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,\\nBloom, for bloom.\\nAnd those that after a To-MORROW stare,\\nXXVI Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust\\nist 2d Eds.\\nXXVII Came out by the same Door as in I went,\\nist 2d Eds.\\nXXVIII And with my own hand labour d it to grow:\\nist Ed.\\n2d 3d Eds. And with my own hand wrought to make it grow:\\nXXX Another and another Cup to drown\\nist Ed. The Memory of this Impertinence\\n2d Ed. Ah, contrite Heav n endowed us with the Vine\\nTo drug the memory of that insolence\\n54", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0100.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "VARIATIONS IN THE TEXT\\nXXXI And many Knots unravel d by the Road;\\nist Ed. But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate.\\n2d Ed. And many Knots unravel d by the Road\\nXXXII There was a Door to which I found no Key\\nist Ed. There was a Veil past which I could not see\\nSome little Talk awhile of Me AND Thee\\nThere seem d and then no more of THEE AND ME.\\nXXXIV Then to the rolling Heav n itself I cried,\\nist Ed. Asking, What Lamp had Destiny to guide\\nHer little Children stumbling in the Dark\\nAnd A blind Understanding Heav n replied.\\n2d Ed. Then of the Thee in Me who works behind\\nThe Veil of Universe I cried to find\\nA Lamp to guide me through the darkness and\\nSomething then said An Understanding blind.\\nXXXV Then to this earthen Bowl did I adjourn\\nist Ed. My Lip the secret Well of Life to learn\\n2d Ed. I lean d, the secret Well of Life to learn\\nXXXVI I think the Vessel, that with fugitive\\nist Ed. Articulation answer d, once did live,\\nAnd merry-make and the cold Lip I kiss d\\nHow many Kisses might it take and give!\\n2d Ed. And that impassive Lip I kiss d\\nXXXVII For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day,\\nist Ed. I watch d the Potter thumping his wet Clay\\nXXXVIII Listen a moment listen! Of the same\\n3d Ed. Poor Earth from which that Human Whisper came,\\nThe luckless Mould in which Mankind was cast\\nThey did compose, and call d him by the name.\\n55", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0101.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXXXIX And not a drop that from our Cups we throw\\n2d Ed. On the parcht herbage but may steal below\\nXL As then the Tulip for her wonted sup\\n2d Ed. Of Heavenly Vintage lifts her chalice up,\\nDo you, twin offspring of the soil, till Heav n\\nTo Earth invert you like an empty Cup.\\nXLI Oh, plagued no more with Human or Divine,\\n2d Ed. To-morrow s tangle to itself resign,\\nXLJI And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,\\ni st Ed. End in the Nothing all Things end in Yes\\nThen fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what\\nThou shalt be Nothing Thou shalt not be less.\\n2d Ed. And if the Cup you drink, the Lip you press,\\nEnd in what All begins and ends in Yes;\\nImagine then you are what heretofore\\nYou Tvere hereafter you shall not be less.\\nXLIII While the Rose blows along the River Brink,\\nist Ed. With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink\\nAnd when the Angel with his darker Draught\\nDraws up to Thee take that, and do not shrink.\\n2d Ed. So when at last the Angel of the drink\\nOf Darkness finds you by the river-brink,\\nAnd, proffering his Cup, invites your Soul\\nForth to your Lips to quaff it do not shrink.\\nXLIV Oh, if my Soul can fling his Dust aside,\\nFrom And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,\\nPreface to Is \u00c2\u00bbt not a Shame, is t not a Shame for Him\\nist Ed. So long in this Clay Suburb to abide\\n2d Ed.\\nIs t not a shame is t not a shame for him\\nSo long in this Clay Suburb to abide!\\n56", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0102.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "VARIATIONS IN THE TEXT\\nXLV Or is that but a Tent, where rests anon\\nFrom A Sultan to his Kingdom passing on,\\nPreface to And which the swarthy Chamberlain shall strike\\nist Ed. Then when the Sultan rises to be gone\\n2d Ed. But that is but a Tent wherein may rest\\nXLVI And fear not lest Existence closing your\\n2d Ed. Account, should lose, or know the type no more\\nXLVII As much as Ocean of a pebble-cast.\\n2d Ed.\\n3d Ed. As the Sev n Seas should heed a pebble-cast.\\nXLVIII One Moment in Annihilation s Waste,\\nist Ed. One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste\\nThe Stars are setting and the Caravan\\nStarts for the Dawn of Nothing Oh make haste!\\n2d Ed. Draws to the Dawn of Nothing Oh, make haste!\\nXLIX A Hair, they say, divides the False and True\\n2d Ed. And upon what, prithee, does Life depend\\nLII Does, instead of doth.\\n2d 3d Eds.\\nLIV How long, how long, in infinite Pursuit\\nist Ed. Of This and That endeavour and dispute\\nBetter be merry with the fruitful Grape\\nThan sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.\\nLV You know, my Friends, how long since in my House\\nist Ed. For a new Marriage I did make Carouse\\n2d Ed. You know, my Friends, how bravely in my House\\nLVI For IS and Is-NOT though with Rule and Line,\\nist Ed. And Up-AND-DOWN without, I could define,\\nI yet in all I only cared to know,\\nWas never deep in anything but Wine.\\n57", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0103.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "RUBAlYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLrVII Ah, fill the Cup what boots it to repeat\\ni st Ed. How Time is slipping underneath our Feet\\nUnborn To-MORROW and dead YESTERDAY,\\nWhy fret about them if TO-DAY be sweet\\n2d Ed.\\nLVIII\\nist Ed.\\nLIX\\nist Ed.\\nLX\\nist Ed.\\nLXII\\n2d Ed.\\nLXIII\\nist Ed.\\n2d Ed.\\nAh, but my Computations, People say,\\nHave squared the Year to Human Compass, eh?\\nIf so, by striking from the Calendar\\nUnborn To-morrow and dead Yesterday.\\nStealing for shining.\\nSubtle for sovereign.\\nThe mighty Mahmud, the victorious Lord,\\nThat all the misbelieving and black Horde\\nOf Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul\\nScatters and slays with his enchanted Sword.\\nWhen the frail Cup is crumbled into Dust!\\nOh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise\\nTo talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies;\\nIs blown for has blown.\\nFellows for comrades.\\nLXV\\n2d 3d Eds.\\nLXVI And after many days my Soul return d\\n2d Ed. And said, Behold, Myself am Heav n and Hell\\nLXVII And Hell the Shadow of a Soul op fire,\\n2d 3d Eds.\\nLXVIII For in and out, above, about, below,\\nist Ed. T is nothing but a Magic Shadow-show,\\nPlay d in a Box whose Candle is the Sun,\\nRound which we Phantom Figures come and go.\\n58", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0104.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "VARIATIONS IN THE TEXT\\n2d Ed. Of visionary Shapes that come and go\\nRound with this Sun-illumin d Lantern held\\nLXIX Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days\\nist Ed. Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:\\nHither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,\\nAnd one by one back in the Closet lays.\\n2d 3d Eds. Impotent Pieces of the Game He plays\\nLXX The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes,\\nist Ed. But Right or Left, as strikes the Player goes\\nAnd He that toss d Thee down into the Field,\\nHe knows about it all He knows HE knows!\\n2d 3d Eds. The same, with the substitution of you for Thee\\nin third line.\\nLXXI Thy for your in second and fourth lines,\\nist Ed.\\nLXXII And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky,\\nist Ed. Whereunder crawling coop t we live and die,\\nLift not thy hands to for help for It\\nRolls impotently on as Thou or I.\\n2d 3d Eds. As impotently rolls as you or I.\\nLXXIII With Earth s first Clay They did the Last Man s knead,\\nist Ed. And then of the Last Harvest sow d the Seed\\nYea, the first Morning of Creation wrote\\nWhat the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.\\nLXX V I tell Thee this When, starting from the Goal,\\nist Ed. Over the shoulders of the flaming Foal, etc.\\nLXXVI The Vine had struck a Fibre; which about\\nist Ed. If clings my Being\u00e2\u0080\u0094 let the Sufi flout;\\n59", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0105.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLXXVII And this I know: whether the one True Light,\\nist Ed. Kindle to Love, or Wrathconsume me quite,\\nOne Glimpse of It within the Tavern caught\\nBetter than in the Temple lost outright.\\nLXXIX Pure Gold for what he lent us dross-allay d\\n2d 3d Eds. Sue for a Debt we never did contract,\\nLXXX Thou wilt not with Predestination round\\n1 st Ed. Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin\\nLXXXI And who with Eden didst devise the Snake;\\nist Ed.\\n2d Ed. For all the Sin the Face of wretched Man\\nIs black with Man s Forgiveness give and take\\nLXXXII Listen again. One Evening at the Close\\nist Ed. Of Ramazan, ere the better Moon arose,\\nIn that old Potter s Shop I stood alone\\nWith the clay Population round in Rows.\\nLXXXIII And once again there gather d a scarce heard\\n2d Ed. Whisper among them as it were, the stirr d\\nAshes of some all but extinguisht Tongue,\\nWhich mine ear kindled into living Word.\\nLXXXIV Then said another Surely not in vain\\nist Ed. My Substance from the common Earth was ta en,\\nThat He who subtly wrought me into Shape\\nShould stamp me back to common Earth again.\\n2d Ed. Should stamp me back to shapeless Earth again\\nLXXX V Another said Why, ne er a peevish Boy,\\nist Ed. Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy;\\nShall He that ma.de the Vessel in pure Love\\nAnd Fansy, in an after Rage destroy!\\n60", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0106.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "VARIATIONS IN THE TEXT\\n2d Ed. Another said Why, ne er a peevish Boy-\\nWould break the Cup from which he drank in Joy;\\nShall He that of his own free Fancy made\\nThe Vessel, in an after-rage destroy\\nLXXXVI None answer d this; but after Silence spake\\nist Ed, A Vessel of a more ungainly Make\\nLXXXVII And, strange to tell, among that Earthen Lot\\nist Ed. Some could articulate, while others not\\nAnd suddenly one more impatient cried\\nWho is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot\\n2d Ed. Thus with the Dead as with the Living, What\\nAnd Why? so ready, but the Wherefor not,\\nOne on a sudden peevishly exclaim d,\\nWhich is the Potter, pray, and which the Pot?\\nLXXXVIII Said one\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Folks of a surly Tapster tell,\\nist Ed. And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell;\\nThey talk of some strict Testing of us Pish\\nHe s a Good Fellow, and twill all be well.\\n2d Ed. Said one Folks of a surly Master tell,\\nAnd daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell;\\nThey talk of some sharp Trial of us Pish\\nLXXXIX Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh,\\nist Ed.\\n2d Ed. Well, said another, Whoso will, let try,\\nXC One spied the little Crescent all were seeking\\nist Ed.\\nHark to the Porter s Shoulder-knot a-creaking\\n2d 3d Eds. (As the above, excepting the fourth line)\\nNow for the Porter s shoulder-knot a-creaking!\\n61", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0107.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXCI Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,\\ni st Ed. And wash my Body whence the Life has died,\\nAnd in a Windingsheet of Vine-leaf wrapt,\\nSo bury me by some sweet Garden-side.\\nXCII That ev n my buried Ashes such a Snare\\nist Ed. Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air,\\nAs not a True Believer passing by\\nBut shall be overtaken unaware.\\nXCIII Indeed the Idols I have loved so long\\nist Ed. Have done my Credit in Men s Eye much wrong\\nHave drown d my Honour in a shallow Cup,\\nAnd sold my Reputation for a Song.\\n2d 3d Eds. Have done my credit in Men s eye much wrong:\\nXCV I often wonder what the Vintners buy\\nist Ed. One half so precious as the Goods they sell.\\n2d Ed. I often wonder what the Vintners buy\\nOne half so precious as the ware they sell.\\nXCVI\\nist Ed.\\nXCVII\\n2d Ed.\\nAlas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose\\nThat Youth s sweet-scented Manuscript should close!\\nToward which the fainting Traveller might spring,\\nXCVIII\\n2d Ed.\\nXCIX\\nist Ed.\\nOh if the World were but to re-create,\\nThat we might catch ere closed the Book of Fate,\\nAnd make The Writer on a fairer leaf\\nInscribe our names, or quite obliterate\\nAh Love could thou and I with Fate conspire\\n2d Ed. Ah Love could you and I with Fate conspire\\n62", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0108.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "VARIATIONS IN THE TEXT\\nC Ah, Moon of my Delight who know st no wane,\\nist Ed. The Moon of Heav n is rising once again\\nHow oft hereafter rising shall she look\\nThrough this same Garden after me in vain!\\n2d Ed. But see The rising Moon of Heav n again\\nLooks for us, Sweet-heart, through the quivering Plane\\nHow oft hereafter rising will she look\\nAmong those leaves for one of us in vain!\\nCI And when Thyself with shining Foot shall pass\\nist Ed. Among the Guests Star-scatter d on the Grass,\\nAnd in thy joyous Errand reach the Spot\\nWhere I made one turn down an empty Glass!\\n2d 3d Eds. And when Yourself with silver Foot shall pass\\n3d Ed. And in your blissful errand reach the spot\\nT\\nQUATRAINS PRINTED IN\\nTHE SECOND EDITION ONLY\\nXIV\\nWere it not Folly, Spider-like to spin\\nThe Thread of present Life away to win\\nWhat for ourselves, who know not if we shall\\nBreathe out the very Breath we now breathe in!\\nXX\\nThe Palace that to Heav n his pillars threw,\\nThe Kings the forehead on his threshold drew\\nI saw the solitary Ringdove there,\\nAnd Coo, coo, coo, she cried; and Coo, coo, coo.\\n63", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0109.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nxxvm\\nAnother Voice, when I am sleeping, cries,\\nThe Flower should open with the Morning skies.\\nAnd a retreating Whisper, as I wake\\nThe Flower that once has blown forever dies.\\nxuv\\nDo you, within your little hour of Grace,\\nThe waving Cypress in your Arms enlace,\\nBefore the Mother back into her arms\\nFold, and dissolve you in a last embrace.\\nLXV\\nIf but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band\\nAre in the Prophet s Paradise to stand,\\nAlack, I doubt the Prophet s Paradise\\nWere empty as the hollow of one s Hand.\\nLXXVII\\nFor let Philosopher and Doctor preach\\nOf what they will and what they will not each\\nIs but one Link in an eternal Chain\\nThat none can slip, nor break, nor over-reach.\\nLXXXVI\\nNay, but, for terror of his wrathful Face,\\nI swear I will not call Injustice Grace\\nNot one Good Fellow of the Tavern but\\nWould kick so poor a Coward from the place.\\nXCi\\nAnd once again there gather d a scarce heard\\nWhisper among them as it were, the stirr d\\nAshes of some all but extinguisht Tongue,\\nWhich mine ear kindled into living Word.\\n1 In the Third and Fourth Editions, Quatrain LXXXIII. takes the place of this.\\n64", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0110.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "VARIATIONS IN THE TEXT\\nxcrx\\nWhither resorting from the vernal Heat\\nShall Old Acquaintance Old Acquaintance greet,\\nUnder the Branch that leans above the Wall\\nTo shed his Blossom over head and feet.\\nCVII\\nBetter, oh better, cancel from the Scroll\\nOf Universe one luckless Human Soul,\\nThan drop by drop enlarge the Flood that rolls\\nHoarser with Anguish as the Ages roll.\\n65", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0111.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0112.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "The Ruba iyat of\\nOmar Khayyam\\nTranslated into English Prose by\\nJustin Huntly McCarthy", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0113.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0114.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "OMAR KHAYYAM\\nBy JUSTIN HUNTLY SMcCARTHY\\nS~\\\\MAR, dear Sultan of the Persian Song,\\n\\\\^Jr Familiar Friend whom I have loved so long,\\nWhose Volume made my pleasant Hiding-place\\nFrom this fantastic World of Right and Wrong*\\nMy Youth lies buried in thy Verses lo,\\nI read, and as the haunted Numbers flow,\\nMy Memory turns in anguish to the Face\\nThat leaned o er Omar s pages long ago*\\nAlas for cMe, alas for all who weep\\nAnd wonder at the Silence dark and deep\\nThat girdles round this little Lamp in space\\nNo wiser than when Omar fell asleep*\\nRest in thy Grave beneath the crimson rain\\nOf heart-desired Roses* Life is vain,\\nAnd vain the trembling Legends we may trace\\nUpon the open Booh that shuts again*\\n69", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0115.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0116.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam\\nI\\nSINCE it is the fate of man upon this hateful earth to feed on\\nsorrow and to vex his soul, he must be accounted happy who\\ndeparts swiftly from the world, but he most happy who never\\ncomes into the world.\\nII\\nThe secret of Eternity is far from thee and me the word of the\\nenigma is unknown to thee and me behind the veil is speech of thee\\nand me but if the veil be rent, what haps to thee and me\\nIll\\nWithout clear wine I cannot live without the wine-cup I cannot\\nlift the load of life I am the slave of that fair hour when the cup-\\nbearer bids me drain yet another cup and I cannot.\\nIV\\nThe rose said, I am the Yusuf flower, for my mouth is full of\\ngold and jewels. I said, If thou art the Yusuf flower, show me a\\ncertain sign thereof. And she made answer, Perchance that I am\\ngarbed in a blood-drenched garment.\\nV\\nLong time I sought in this shifting world for a moment s halting-\\nplace. I spent in my endeavours all my wit, and lo I learn that\\nthe moon is but a pallid wheel beside thy beauty, that the cypress,\\nby thy slender form, seems a grotesque deformity.\\nVI\\nYea, drink wine, for by him who is far-seeing as I am, it will be\\nfound that in the eyes of the Deity the act is of small account. God\\nfrom all time has foreseen that I should drink wine. If I drank not,\\nthis fore-knowledge would become ignorance, or I should not fulfil\\nHis fore-knowledge.\\n7*", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0117.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nVII\\nRise and come hither, and for mine heart s ease solve at least one\\nproblem bring swiftly here a flask of ancient wine, that we may\\ndrink our fill before folk make flagons of our clay.\\nvni\\nWhen I am dead, wash me with vintage juice instead of prayers\\nrecite over my tomb hymnals of wine and flagons, and if you seek me\\nat the latter day, look for me in the dust upon the tavern threshold.\\nIX\\nSince no man dares play prophet for to-morrow, hasten to lift thy\\nheavy laden heart. Drain, O delightful moon, a crimson cup, for\\nHeaven s moon will turn a weary while and fail to find us.\\nLet the lucky lover be drunk from year s end to year s end,\\ndrenched in wine and garbed in shame for when we are wise and\\nwide-awake sorrow assaults us from all quarters, but no sooner are\\nwe drunk than we laugh at fortune.\\nXI\\nIn Heaven s name, why does the philosopher set his heart upon\\nthe trophies of this house of many sorrows Let him who calls me\\ndrunkard clear his eyes and tell me if he sees on high even the sign\\nof a tavern.\\nXII\\nEvery morn I say, this shall be the night of repentance, repent-\\nance from the flagon, and from the bowl brimming over, repentance.\\nYet now that the season of roses has come set me free in the time of\\nthe rose from repentance, O Lord of repentance\\n72", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0118.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nxiii\\nSpeak sooth, thou Little Wheel, what have I done to thee, that\\nthus, beaten and persecuted, I should be driven by thee to beg my\\nbread from town to town and find my draught in the flowing stream\\nXIV\\nI passed by where a potter kneaded earth and I beheld what he\\ndid not behold, that it was my father s dust which lay in the palm of\\nthat potter.\\nXV\\nMan is like unto a flagon and his soul is the wine therein: his\\nmould is like unto a reed, and his soul is the sound therein. What\\nis earthly man, O Khayyam, but a paper lantern of fancy and a lamp\\ntherein.\\nXVI\\nSince life seldom answers to our heart s desire, of what avail are\\nall our hopes and all our strivings Our spirits are always vexed,\\nalways are we saying in sighing, Too late we came, too soon we\\nmust depart.\\nXVII\\nSince the Heavenly Wheel and Fate have never been your friends,\\nwhy should you reck whether the Heavens be seven or eight There\\nare, I say again, two days for which I take no thought, the day which\\nhas not come, and the day which has gone for ever.\\nxvni\\nO Khayyam, why so much mourning for your sin What conso-\\nlation can you find in thus plaguing yourself He who has never\\nsinned can never taste the sweet of forgiveness. Mercy was made\\nfor the sake of sin, therefore why are you afraid\\n73", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0119.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "RUBAlYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXIX\\nNo one has ever passed behind the veil that masks the secrets of\\nGod. No one shall ever pass behind it there is no other dwelling-\\nplace for us than the bosom of the earth. Woe s me that this\\nsecret, too, should be so short.\\nI myself will pour wine into a cup which containeth a full measure.\\nTwo cups thereof will content me, but I will immediately three times\\ndivorce from me religion and reason, and wed the daughter of the\\nvine.\\nXXI\\nOh, my beloved, full of graces and witcheries, seat thyself; and\\nthus, quenching the flames of a thousand desires rise not up again.\\nThou forbiddest me to gaze upon thee, but thou might as well com-\\nmand me to turn down the cup, without spilling the contents thereof.\\nSeek the company of men of righteousness and understanding,\\nand fly a thousand leagues from a man without wit. If a wise man\\ngiveth thee poison, fear not to drink thereof, but if a fool offereth\\nthee an antidote, pour it out upon the earth.\\nxxm\\nMy well beloved, may her days be long as my sorrows, is kind to\\nme again. She cast upon me a sweet and fleeting glance, and\\nstraightway vanished, saying, no doubt, Let me do good and cast it\\non the water.\\nXXIV\\nThe Koran, which men call the Holy Word, is none the less read\\nonly from time to time, and not with steadfast study, while on the\\nlip of the cup there runs a luminous verse which we love to read\\nalways and ever.\\n74", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0120.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nXXV\\nYou who drink no wine, blame not the bibbers, for I would liefer\\nrenounce Heaven than renounce the juice of the grape. You plume\\nyourself upon your temperance, but this false glory sits vilely on\\none who commits deeds a thousand times more vile than honest\\ndrunkenness.\\nXXVI\\nAlthough my body may be comely, although its odour may be\\nsuave, although my colour may mock the tulip, and my figure shame\\nthe cypress, it is not clear to me, nevertheless, why my Heavenly\\npainter has deigned to limn me on this world.\\nxxvn\\nv I wish to drink so deep, so deep of wine that its fragrance may\\nhang about the soil where I shall sleep, and that revellers, still dizzy\\nfrom last night s wassail, shall, on visiting my tomb, from its very\\nperfume fall dead drunk.\\nXXVJLLL\\nIn the kingdom of hope win all the hearts you can, in the kingdom\\nof the presence, bind to thyself a perfect soul, for, be sure, a hundred\\nKaabas, blent of earth and water, are not worth a single heart. Give\\nthen thy Kaaba the go-by, and seek a heart instead.\\nOh, wheel of fate, destruction falls from thy unconquerable hate.\\nTyranny has been thy purpose and thy pleasure from the beginning\\nof things. And thou too, O earth, if we but digged into thy breast,\\nwhat treasures should we not find therein\\nXXX\\nWhen our blood beats quickest with joy of the green earth, when\\nthe steeds of the sun sweep over the green earth, I love to wander\\nwith lovely girls upon the green earth, making merry together before\\nwe are all turned to green earth.\\n75", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0121.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nEvery day when dawn appears, I will hasten to the tavern with\\nthe cheating kalendars. 1 Then, thou that art Lord of the deepest\\nsecrets of man s heart, give me faith, if thou wouldest that I put\\nfaith in prayer.\\nxxxii\\nNever, alas, do we drink with delight one drop of clear water\\nwithout at the same time draining the bowl of bitter wine from the\\nhand of sorrow. Never do we sharpen the savour of bread with the\\nsavour of salt without feeding upon our own hearts.\\nxxxm\\nTake a grip of the Koran with one hand have a clutch at the cup\\nwith the other, and tremble between the lawful and the unlawful.\\nSo shall we sit beneath the vaulted sky neither wholly believers nor\\nwholly infidel.\\nWe should keep all our secrets from the indiscreet, from the very\\nnightingale we should hide them. Think then, O Heaven, upon the\\nharm you wreak upon poor human hearts in forcing them thus to\\nhide from each other s eyes.\\nO Cup-Bearer, since Time lurks hard by ready to shatter you and\\nme, this world can never be an abiding dwelling for you and me.\\nBut come what may, assure yourself that God is in our hands while\\nthis cup of wine stands between you and me.\\nXXXVI\\nWith cup in hand I lingered long among the flowers, and yet not\\none of all my wishes has been realized in this world. But although\\nwine has not led me to the goal of my desires, I will not go from that\\nway, for when man follows a road he turns not back again.\\n1 Kalendars Sufi dervishes.\\n76", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0122.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nmrx vir\\nPlace the wine-cup in my hand, for my heart is all afire and life\\nslips from us swift as quicksilver. Arise, my beloved, for the favour\\nof fortune is but a cheating dream, arise, for the flame of youth\\ngushes like the water of the torrent.\\nXXXVIII\\nWe are the servants of love the devout are otherwise. We are\\npoor ants, and Solomon is otherwise. Ask of us a visage wan with\\nlove, and tattered garments for the way of the world is otherwise.\\nAscribe not to the wheel of heaven the woe and weal which are\\nthe portion of man, the thousand joys and thousand sorrows which\\nFate awards us, for this wheel, my friend, revolves more helpless\\nthan thyself along the highway of the heavenly love.\\nXL\\nI have flown like a sparrow-hawk forth from this world of mys-\\nteries, in the hope of reaching a higher sphere. But, fallen again to\\nthe earth, and finding none worthy of sharing the hidden thoughts of\\nmy heart, I have gone forth again by the door through which I came.\\nXLI\\nWe are lost in love to-day, in the holy shrine we pay homage to\\nwine to-day, sundered from our very being we shall touch the\\nthreshold of the eternal throne to-day.\\nXLH\\nThe day when I hold in my hand a cup of wine, and when in the\\njoy of my heart I drink myself drunk, then in that happy state a\\nhundred miracles become clear to me, and words as limpid as water\\nexplain the mystery of things.\\n77", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0123.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXLHI\\nSince every day is but two halting places, hasten to drink thy fill\\nof wine; for be sure of this, thou wilt never regain thy lost hours,\\nand since thou knowest that this world drives swiftly to its total ruin,\\nimitate it thyself, and day and night seek the sweet annihilation of\\nwine.\\nXLIV\\nBehold the dawn arise, O fountain of delights. Drink your wine\\nand touch your lute, for the life of those who sleep will be but brief\\nand of those who have gone hence, not one will e er return.\\nXLV\\nYea, it is I, who, in this ruined tavern, surrounded by drinkers\\nand dancers, have staked, for their sakes, all my belongings, soul\\nand heart, and worldly gear, down to my very drinking cup. Thus I\\nset myself free from hope of Heaven and from fear of Hell. Thus I\\nam above the elements, earth, air, fire, and water.\\nXLVI\\nOnly a breath divides faith and unfaith, only a breath divides belief\\nfrom doubt. Let us then make merry while we still draw breath, for\\nonly a breath divides life from death.\\nXLVII\\nThe light of the moon has severed the black robe of the night.\\nDrink wine, therefore, for thou wilt never find a moment so precious.\\nYes, give thyself up to joy, for this same moon will illumine long\\nafter us the face of the earth.\\nXLvni\\nThe clouds are spread forth again over the faces of the roses, and\\ncover them as with a veil. The desire of drink is still unquenched\\nwithin my heart. Seek not yet thy couch, for the time has not come.\\nOh, beloved of my soul, drink wine, drink, for the sun has not yet\\nvanished beneath the horizon.\\n7 8", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0124.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "f\\nMcCarthy version\\nXLIX\\nThou who knowest man s most hidden thoughts, Thou who up-\\nholdest the halt with Thy hands, give me strength to renounce, and\\nheed my pleading, O Thou who art the strength of all men, heed my\\npleading.\\nL\\n1 saw upon the walls of Thous a bird perched in front of the skull\\nof Kai Khosrou. The bird said unto the skull, Alas, what has\\nbecome of the clash of the gear of thy glory and the bruit of thy\\ntrumpets\\nLI\\nMy run of life slips by in a few days. It has passed me by like\\nthe wind of the desert. Therefore, so long as one breath of life is\\nleft to me, there are two days with which I shall never vex my spirit,\\nthe day that has not yet come, and the day that has gone by.\\nui\\nThis captain ruby comes from an unknown mine. This perfect\\ngem is stamped with an unknown seal. All our conclusions on the\\nquestion are vain, for the riddle of perfect love is written in an\\nunknown tongue.\\nLHI\\nSince the day brings with it a consciousness of youth, I mean to\\nwile it away with wine even to my heart s delight. Do not blas-\\npheme, on account of its bitterness, this glorious juice, for it is a\\ndelight to drink, and bitter only because it is my life.\\nLIV\\nO, my sad soul, since it is your destiny to be pierced to the quick\\nby sorrow, since nature bids that you shall be troubled every day with\\na new torment, therefore, O my soul, tell me why you took up your\\nabode in my body, seeing that you must one day quit it.\\n79", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0125.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLV\\nOn that day of days which men call restful, set aside the cup and\\ndrink your wine from a larger measure. If you pledge other days\\nwith but a single draught, this day drink twice, for it is indeed the\\nday of days.\\nLVI\\nHim, on whom you lean with so much confidence, him, if your\\neyes were unsealed, you would know for your worst enemy. It is\\nwise in these evil days to seek but little after friendship. The speech\\nof our fellows rings fair only from afar.\\nLVII\\nOh, my heart, since this world grieves thee, since thy pure soul\\nmust so soon be severed from thy body, sit thee down in the grassy\\nfields and make merry awhile, before other grasses spring from the\\nvery dust.\\nLVIII\\nAlthough this wine in its essence is capable of taking a thousand\\nshapes, assuming now the form of an animal, now the form of a plant,\\ndo not therefore believe that it can ever cease to be, and that its\\nessence can be destroyed, for there is the reality when the shadows\\ndisappear.\\nLIX\\nI see no smoke arise from the fire of my sins I expect a fairer\\nfate from no man. If the injustice of men makes me lift my hand to\\nmy head, I find no solace in laying it on the hem of their gaberdines.\\nLX\\nLet us begin again the round of our pleasures let us continue to\\ndisdain the round of prayers. Wherever the wine-flagon is to be\\nfound, there also thou mayest see, like unto the neck of the flagon\\nitself, our throats stretched out to the cup.\\n80", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0126.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nL3\\nHere, below, we are naught but puppets tor the diversion of the\\nwheel of the heavens. This is indeed a truth, and no simile. We\\ntruly are but pieces on this chessboard of humanity, which in the end\\nwe leave, only to enter, one by one, into the grave of nothingness.\\nLXII\\nIn mosque, in school, in church, in synagogue, men fear for hell\\nand hope for paradise, but the seed of this uncertainty has never\\nsprouted in the soul of him who has penetrated the secrets of the\\nAll-Wise.\\nLXIH\\nThou askest me the meaning of this phantasmagoria of things\\nhere below. To expound the whole of it to thee would be a work\\nwithout end. It is a fantastic vision, which springs from a boundless\\nocean, and sinks again into the same ocean from which it arose.\\nLXIV\\nLet us abandon the vain search after the unattainable, and give\\nourselves up wholly to the joys of the present, to touching the long\\ntresses trembling to the melodious sound of the harp.\\nLXV\\nWe yield ourselves to the commands of wine, joyously we offer\\nour souls in sacrifice to the smiling stream of the holy juice. Behold\\nour minister of wine, in one hand the flagon, in the other the brim-\\nming cup, bidding us quaff the purest wine of his soul.\\nLXVI\\nYou have wandered upon the face of the earth, but all that you\\nhave known is nothing, all that you have seen, all that you have\\nheard, is nothing. Though you travel from world s end to world s\\nend, all that is nothing, although you abide in a corner of your house,\\nall that is nothing.\\n6 81", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0127.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nlxvii\\nOne night I beheld in a dream a sage, who said to me, In sleep,\\nO my friend, the rose of joy has never blossomed for any man.\\nWhy do you do a deed so like to death Arise, and drink wine, for\\nyou will sleep sound enough beneath the earth.\\nLXVIII\\nFling dust to the skies, and drink deep of the wine-flagon seek\\never the fairest women. it end dost thou sue for pardon, to\\nwhat end dost thou pray, seeing that of all those departed hence,\\nnot one has returned\\nLXIX\\nIf the human heart could know the secrets of life, it would know\\ntoo, knowing death, the secrets of God. If to-day, when you are with\\nyourself, you know nothing, what shall you know to-morrow, when\\nyou have passed from yourself?\\nLXX\\nThough heaven and earth were blent together, though all the lustre\\nof the stars went out, I would wait in your path, O beloved, and ask\\nof you why you have taken away my life.\\nLXXI\\nThank God, the hour of roses has arrived. From my heart I\\ndelight in the thought of breaking the law of Alkoran. For many a\\nday I mean to delight me with girls of lovely face and lovely body,\\nand to turn the meadow to a tulip-bed by the spilth of my wine on\\nthe green sward.\\nLxxn\\nAlthough, truly, I have never pierced the pearl of obedience which\\nwe owe to Thee, although I have never swept the dust of Thy steps\\nfrom my heart, I do not despair of reaching to the foot of the throne\\nof Thy mercy, for I have never worried Thee with my importunate\\nprayers.\\n82", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0128.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nLxxin\\nThis jar has been, like me, a creature, loving and unhappy it has\\nsighed for the long tresses of some fair young girl that handle by\\n/hich you hold it now, was once a loving arm to linger fondly round\\n.ome fair one s neck.\\nlxxiv\\nDo not heedlessly beat at every portal. We must learn to take\\nthe good with the bad in this life, for we can only play the game\\naccording to the number of dots on the face of the dice which destiny\\nthrows into the hollow of this heavenly cup.\\nLXXV\\nBefore ever you or I were born, there were dawns and twilights,\\nand it was not without design that the revolutions of the skies were\\nsanctioned. Be careful, then, how you tread upon this dust, for it\\nwas once, no doubt, the apple of some fair girl s eye.\\nLXXVT\\nYou cannot assure yourself to-day that you shall behold to-mor-\\nrow s dawn even to dwell upon to-morrow is mere madness if your\\nheart is wide awake, do not waste in torpor this little pinch of life, for\\nthere is no proof how long it shall abide with you.\\nLXXVn\\nQuestion me not upon the vagaries of this world, nor of the things\\nthat yet may be. Look upon this present hour as plunder from des-\\ntiny. Vex not thyself about the past, nor plague me about the\\nfuture.\\nLXXVIII\\nThe temples of the gods and kaabas are places of praise, the chim-\\ning of bells is naught but a hymn raised in praise of the All-Potent.\\nThe pulpit, the church, the beads, the cross, are all but different\\nsymbols of the same homage to the same Lord.\\n83", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0129.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLXXIX\\nLet not the fear of things to be make sallow thy cheek, let not\\nthings present make thee blanch with fear. Enjoy, in this land of\\nshadows, thy share of delight, and do not wait therefor until heaven s\\ngifts are snatched away from you,\\nLXXX\\nNo false money circulates with us. The broom has cleanly swept\\nour happy home. An old man coming from the tavern said, counsel-\\nling me, Drink, friend, drink wine, for many lives will follow yours\\nduring your long sleep.\\nLXXXI\\nThese travellers have departed, and of them all, not one has\\nreturned to tell us of the hidden things concealed behind the veil.\\nOh, devout man, it is by a humble heart, and not by prayer, that the\\nthings which concern thy soul will be brought to a favourable issue,\\nfor prayer is of no avail to a man without sincerity and contrition.\\nLXXXII\\nIf you will hearken I will give you good counsel. Do not don the\\ncloak of hypocrisy for the love of God. Eternity is of all time, and\\nthis world is but of a moment. Do not, then, barter for a moment\\nthe empery of eternity.\\nLXXXIII\\nHow long shall I vex you with mine ignorance My nothingness\\noppresses my heart. Even now I will bind my loins with the girdle\\nof the priests. Wherefore Because I weary of my way of life.\\nLXXXIV\\nThou hast planted in our hearts an irresistible desire, and at the\\nsame time Thou hast forbidden us to satisfy it. In what a strait dost\\nthou find thyself, oh, unhappy man, between this law of thy nature,\\nand this commandment It is as if thou wert ordered to turn down\\nthe cup, without spilling the contents thereof.\\n8 4", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0130.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nLXXXV\\nKhayyam, when you are drunk be merry when you are with\\nyour mistress, be glad since the end of this world is nothingness,\\nthink that you are not, and while you are, be jocund.\\nLXXXVI\\nAll things that be were long since marked upon the tablet of crea-\\ntion. Heaven s pencil has naught to do with good or evil. God set\\non fate its necessary seal and all our efforts are but a vain striving.\\nLXXXVII\\n1 would rather in the tavern with thee pour out all the thoughts of\\nmy heart, than without thee go and make my prayer unto Heaven.\\nThis, truly, O Creator of all things present and to come, is my reli-\\ngion whether Thou castest me into the flames, or makest me glad\\nwith the light of Thy countenance.\\nLXXXVIII\\nI cannot lightly disclose my secret to the bad and the good alike.\\nI cannot amplify my simple thought. I behold a place that I cannot\\ndescribe I hold a secret that I cannot reveal.\\nLXXXIX\\nIn the face of the decrees of Providence, nothing succeeds save\\nresignation. Among men nothing succeeds save counterfeit and\\nhypocrisy. I have employed all the most skilful ruses that the\\nhuman mind can scheme, but Fate has always overturned my\\nprojects.\\nXC\\nIf a stranger serves you faithfully, think of him as close of kin. If\\none of your kin betray you, think of him as acting in error. If a\\npoison cures you, call it an antidote if an antidote works you ill, call\\nit a poison.\\n85", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0131.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXCI\\nBehold, the time is come, when the earth is about to clothe itself\\nin verdure, when the blossoms breaking forth over the branches,\\nmake them become as the hand of Moses, when, as if quickened by\\nthe breath of Jesus, the plants spring from the earth, when at last\\nthe clouds open their eyes to weep.\\nxcn\\nLong have I sung the praise of wine and dwelt among the things\\nof its service. May you be happy, my philosopher, in the belief that\\nyou have taken wisdom for your master, but learn, too, that that\\nmaster is only my pupil.\\nXCIII\\nGive not thyself over to care and to grief in the hope of gaining\\nyellow or white money in the end. Enjoy thyself with thy compan-\\nions, before thy warm breath becomes cold, for thy enemies will feast\\nin thy room when thou art departed.\\nXCIV\\nSince it is certain that we must needs go hence, what is the use of\\nbeing Why should we strive so eagerly after unattainable happi-\\nness Since for some unknown reason we may not abide here, were\\nit not well to think a little upon our voyage to come Why should\\nwe be so heedless thereof\\nXCV\\nWhat heart does not bleed for your absence, what soul is not the\\nservant of your enchanting charms For though you pay heed to no\\none, there is no one who does not pay heed to you.\\nXCVI\\nThe world upbraids me as a debauchee, and yet I am not guilty.\\nYe holy men, look upon yourselves, and learn what ye truly are.\\nYou charge me with violation of the Holy Law, but I have committed\\nno other sins than riot, drunkenness, and adultery.\\n86", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0132.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nXCVII\\nMy happiness is incomplete while I am sober. When I am drunk,\\nblank ignorance overgrows my reason. There is a state between\\nclear reason and intoxication. Ah, with what joy do I make myself\\nthe slave of that state, for therein lies life.\\nXCVIII\\nThis world is but a hair s breadth in our wretched life. The soul\\nbut the faint trace of our blended tears and blood. Hell is but a\\nshadow of the vain toils we take upon ourselves. Paradise is but\\nthe moment s rest we sometimes taste here.\\nXCIX\\nIf you give yourself up to your passion, to your insatiable desire,\\nI prophesy unto you that you will go hence as poor as a beggar.\\nSee rather what you are and whence you come, know what you are\\nand learn whither you go.\\nWho can believe that he who made the cup would dream of\\ndestroying it All those fair faces, all those lovely limbs, all those\\nenchanting bodies, what love has made them, and what hate\\ndestroys them\\nCI\\nIt is but thy drunkenness which makes thee dread death and fear\\nnothingness for it is clear that from that nothingness the tree of\\nimmortality shall spring. Since my soul has been resuscitated by\\nthe breath of Jesus, eternal death has fled afar from me.\\nCII\\nCopy the tulip, that flames with the new year take, like her, the\\ncup in your hand, and drink at all advantage your wine with a light\\nheart, in company with a youthful beauty with tulip cheeks. For\\nyon blue wheel may like a whirlwind at any moment dash you down.\\n8 7", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0133.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncm\\nOne drop of wine is worth all the kingdoms of the earth the tile\\nwhich covers the jar is worth a thousand lives. The cloth with\\nwhich we wipe the lips moistened with wine is truly more precious\\nthan a thousand pieces.\\nCIV\\nO, my friends, when I am sped, appoint a meeting and when ye\\nhave met together, be ye glad thereof, and when the cup-bearer holds\\nin her hand a flagon of old wine, then think upon old Khayyam and\\ndrink to his memory.\\nCV\\nThere is no shield to save you from the spear-cast of destiny.\\nGlory, gold, silver, each avails not. The more I ponder on this world\\nand its gear, the more I am assured that to be good is all the rest\\navails not.\\nCVI\\nI pity the heart that is not prompted to abstinence, for it is the\\ndaily prey of passions. Only the heart that is free from care can be\\ntruly happy aught in excess of that state is mere vexation.\\nCVII\\nHow long wilt thou afflict thy soul with the failure of thy ambi-\\ntions Trouble is the lot of those who are careful for the future.\\nPass thy life in joy, therefore, and give not thyself up to the cares of\\nthis world. Know that wine will in no wise increase the bitterness\\nof thy woes.\\nCVIII\\nHe who has the wisdom to keep his heart contented has lost no\\nhour in sorrow he has either devoted himself to seeking the grace\\nof God, or he has gained tranquillity of soul over the brimming\\nwine-cup.\\n88", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0134.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCIX\\nTo drink wine and to make merry, such is my scheme of life. To\\npay no heed to heretic or devotee, such is my creed. I asked the\\nbride of all the human race, What is thy marriage portion and\\nshe answered, smiling, My marriage portion lies in the joy of thy\\nheart.\\nCX\\nRejoice, therefore, for the time cometh quickly when all whom\\nthou beholdest now shall be hidden in the earth. Drink, drink wine,\\nand let not the cares of this world overwhelm you. Those who come\\nafter thee will too soon become a prey.\\nCXI\\nNo day ever finds my soul free from amazement, no night ever\\nfinds my bosom free from the tears that trickle from my eyes. The\\nunease that sways me forbids the cup of my head from brimming\\nwith wine. Alas, how shall an inverted cup be ever filled\\nCXII\\nWhen God built up my body out of clay, He knew beforehand the\\nfruit of all my deeds. It is not in defiance of His will that I a sinner\\nhave sinned. Why then for me does nether hell await\\nCXIII\\nWhat time my being seemed to lean to prayer and fasting, I\\ndeemed for a moment that I was about to touch the goal of my\\ndesires; but, alas, a breath has sufficed to destroy the efficacy of my\\nablutions, and a half measure of wine has set my fasts aside.\\nCXIV\\nAll my being is attracted by the sight of the fair faces dyed with\\nthe hue of the rose my heart delights to savour the cup of wine.\\nYea, I wish to enjoy the award of each of my members before those\\nmembers fall again into the all from which they sprang.\\n8 9", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0135.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncxv\\nYesterday I visited the workshop of a potter there I beheld two\\nthousand pots, some speaking, and some holding their peace. Each\\none seemed to say to me, Where is then the potter, where the\\nbuyer of pots, where the seller\\ncxvi\\nI am worthy neither of heaven nor yet. of hell. God knows from\\nwhat clay He fashioned me. I am as heretical as a dervish, as ill-\\nfavoured as a harlot. I have neither faith nor wealth, nor hope of\\nparadise.\\nCXVII\\nYesterday, passing drunken before the tavern door, I beheld an\\nold man, full of wine, bearing a gourd upon his back. I spake to him\\nand said, Oh, old man, dost thou not fear God? He answered\\nme, There is mercy with Him go, therefore, and drink.\\nCXVIII\\nWine, which is valued by the man of understanding, is for me the\\nwater of life. It is balm to my heart, and an elixir which renews\\nthe strength of my soul. Hath not God himself said The benefit\\nof mankind is found in wine.\\ncxrx\\nPoor man, thy passion, like unto a watch-dog, gives forth hollow\\nsounds. It masks the wiles of the fox, it seeks the sleep of the hare\\nit blends in one the rage of the tiger with the hunger of the wolf.\\nCXX\\nWho led thee here this night to me, thus drenched with wine\\nWho, lifting the light veil that covered thee, has guided thee to my\\nthreshold Who has swept thee away again more swiftly than the\\nwind, to feed more fiercely the flame that burnt already brightly in\\nthine absence\\n90", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0136.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCXXI\\nEvery heart in which Heaven hath set the lamp of love, whether\\nthat heart incline to mosque or synagogue, if its name be written in\\nthe book of love, it is freed from the fear of hell and the hope of\\nparadise.\\nCXXII\\nO you who out of all the world art dearest to my heart, more pre-\\ncious than the soul which quickens me or than the eyes that light my\\npath, there is nothing, oh my beloved, dearer than life, and yet you,\\nah, you are a hundred times more dear.\\nCXXIII\\nHow fair are the green fringes of the living stream. Surely they\\nsprang once from the lip of some celestial fair. Trample them not\\nwith scorn, for they spring from the dust of a tulip-tinted face.\\nCXXIV\\nWe are enduring naught but cark and care in this world which\\noffers us a fleeting harbourage. Alas, not one of all creation s rid-\\ndles has been read to us, and we depart hence with sorry hearts.\\nCXXV\\nWhen the day arriveth, when, with my head thrown back, I fall at\\nthe feet of death, when the destroying angel shall have made me like\\nunto a bird without feathers oh, then, see thou that of my dust a\\nwine-flagon is formed for who can say but that the odour of the\\nwine may re-inform my clay\\nCXXVI\\nMaster, make lawful but one alone of all our wishes. Hold your\\npeace and guide us on the road to God. Truly we walk straightly, it\\nis you who go astray. Heal your eyes and leave us to our peace.\\n91", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0137.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCXXVII\\nSince this vain world abideth not, I will occupy myself only with\\nguile, I will give up my thoughts to pleasure and limpid wine.\\nThey say unto me, Hath not God forbidden it He can truly\\nnever have given me this commandment, for if He had I could not\\nobey it!\\nCXXVIII\\nWhen I draw near unto the gear of this world, I behold all man-\\nkind seizing on the good things it contains without any merit of\\ntheirs, while to me, oh All-Powerful God, nothing is vouchsafed but\\nthe shipwreck of my hopes.\\nCXXIX\\nA mouthful of wine is worth more than the kingdom of Kai\\nKhosrou it is more desirable than the throne of Kai Kobad or the\\nempery of Thous. The sighs with which a lover disturbs the dawn\\nare preferable to the howlings of sanctimonious hypocrites.\\ncxxx\\nIf I do drink wine it is not for mine own selfish gratification, it is\\nnot for riot s sake or to hold aloof from religion and the virtues, no,\\nit is but that I may escape for a moment from myself. No other\\npurpose spurs me to drink and be drunken.\\nCXXXI\\nFolk say that there is a hell. This is a vain error, in which no\\ntrust should be placed, for if there were a hell for lovers and for bib-\\nbers of wine, why heaven would be, from to-morrow morn, as empty\\nas the hollow of my hand. 1\\nquatrains printed in Second Edition only, lxv.\\nQ2", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0138.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\ncxxxii\\nIf you have drunk wine faithfully all the week, do not hold your\\nhand on the Sabbath for, by our holy faith, there is no difference\\nbetween that day and another. Be thou the worshipper of the All-\\nHigh and not a worshipper of the days of the week.\\nCXXXIII\\nDear my God, You are merciful, and mercy is pity. Why then has\\nthe greatest sinner been shut off from paradise If You only pardon\\nme because I have obeyed You, what mercy is that? It would be\\nmerciful to forgive me, sinner that I am.\\nCXXXIV\\nPut wisdom by, and take the cup in hand. Cease to perplex your-\\nself about heaven and hell. Sell thy silken turban to buy wine with\\nthe price and have no fear. Pluck off that costly head-gear con-\\ntent thy head with a woollen cap.\\ncxxxv\\nThey bid me drink no wine during this month, for this month is\\nthe Prophet s, nor yet in that month, for that is the month of God.\\nVery well, leave those two months to God and His Prophet, and let\\nus drink deep in the month of Ramazan, since that month is reserved\\nto us.\\nCXXXVI\\nAlthough wine is forbidden, cease not to drink thereof. Drink, by\\nmorning and eventide, drink to the sound of song, and to the melody\\nof the harp. When thou hast procured wine glowing like the ruby,\\npour one drop on the earth, and drink the rest.\\nCXXXVII\\nName my merits one by one, take my defects by tens at a time.\\nPardon every sin for the love of God. Do not feed the fire of hate\\nwith the breath of passion, pardon us in the memory of the tomb of\\nthe Prophet of God.\\n93", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0139.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCXXXVTII\\nThe multitude of creeds has divided mankind into seventy-two\\nnations. Of all these doctrines I have chosen that of thy love. Of\\nwhat meaning are the words impiety, Islam, faith, sin Thou art\\nmy sole desire. Away from me all these vain pretences.\\nCXXXIX\\nTruly the wine in the cup is a shining life, in the body of the\\nflagon it is a clear soul. No churlish fellow is worthy of my fellow-\\nship. Only the wine cup deserves to enter therein, for it is at the\\nsame time a solid and a diaphanous body.\\nCXL\\nThis aged caravanserai which men call the world, this alternating\\nhome of light and night, is but the fag end of a feast of a hundred\\nsuch lords as Jamshid. It is but a tomb serving as a pillow for the\\nsleep of a hundred such kings as Bahram.\\nCXLI\\nIf the rose is not our portion do not the thorns remain If the\\nlight does not reach us, does not the fire remain If we have not the\\ngarment, the temple nor the priest, do not the mosque, the dome, the\\nminaret, remain?\\nCXLII\\nWhere are the dancers Where is the wine Hasten that I may\\ndo honour to the gourd. Happy is the heart which remembers the\\nwine in the morning. Oh there exist three things in this world\\nwhich are dear to me a head overtaken with wine, a fair mistress,\\nand the sound of singing.\\nCXLHI\\nO Wheel of Heaven, heedless of bread and salt, you leave me ever\\nnaked as a fish. The wheel of the weaver weaveth clothes for men,\\ntherefore it is more charitable than thou, O Wheel of Heaven.\\n94", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0140.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCXLIV\\nO Khayyam, sad is his lot who lets his heart be vexed by earthly\\ntribulations. Drink then to the touch of the lute, drink wine in a\\ncrystal cup, drink before the crystal is dashed against a stone.\\nCXLV\\nTell me, friend, what have I acquired of the riches of this world\\nNothing. What has fleeting time left in my hands Nothing. I\\nam the torch of joy, but once the torch is extinct I exist no longer.\\nI am the cup of Jamshid, but the cup once broken I exist no more.\\nCXLVI\\nBehold the dawn appears. She has torn aside the veil of night.\\nRise, then, and empty the morning s cup. Why so sad Drink,\\nheart, drink, for these dawns will follow and follow with their faces\\nturned to us, when our faces shall be turned to the earth.\\ncxlvh\\nIf the wheel of heaven denies me bread, am I not prompt for war\\nIf I have not a noble reputation, have I not my shame Lo, the\\ncup brimmed with a crimson wine. He that will not drink deserves\\nto be stoned.\\nCXLVm\\nSince life flies, what matters it whether it be sweet or bitter?\\nSince our soul must escape through our lips, what matters it whether\\nit be at Naishapur or Babylon Drink, then, for after thou and I\\nare dust, the moon will for many days pass from her last to her first\\nquarter, and from her first to her last.\\nCXLIX\\nWhy, when to-day the rose of fortune blossoms, is the wine-cup\\nmissing from your hands Drink, my friend, drink red wine, for\\nTime is a merciless fellow, and it is hard to find again a day like this.\\n95", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0141.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCL\\nThe month of Ramazan has come, the time of the wine is over.\\nYes, the days of that delicious drink and of our easy life have fallen\\nfar from us. Woe s me for the wine that waits undrunken in the\\njar, and the eyes of the fair women that burn for us in vain.\\nCLI\\nThe palace, where Bahram loved to troll the bowl, is now the\\nresting-place of stags, the lair of lions. See how this Bahram who\\nloved to snare the wild ass with a running noose is snared himself in\\nhis turn by the tomb.\\nCLII\\nWe have come too late into this whirl and welter of life, and we\\nhave fallen here, below the level of mankind. Ah since life does\\nnot, alas, move according to our wishes, it were better it should\\ncease; for already we have reached satiety.\\nCLIII\\nAlthough sin has left me evil of favour, unhappy, I am not without\\nhope, in which I am like unto the idolaters who pin their faith to the\\ngods of their temples. None the less on the morn when I must die\\nof the last night s riot I will clamour for wine and call for my para-\\nmour, for what care I for heaven or hell\\nCLIV\\nOh, my dear companions, pour me wine to make my countenance\\nclear with the colour of rubies. When I am dead, wash me in wine,\\nand make my litter and my coffin of the wood of the vine.\\nCLV\\nA draught of wine is better than the empery of Jamshid. The\\nperfume of the cup is better than the gifts of Hatim Tai. The sigh\\nwhich slips at dawning from the breast of him who went drunk to\\nbed, is better than the lamentations of Majnun.\\n9 6", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0142.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCLVI\\nThe clouds spread over the face of the heavens, and rain patters on\\nthe sward. How could it be possible to live for a single second with-\\nout crimson wine This green before me delights my eye, but the\\ngrass which shall spring from my dust whose eye will delight in\\nCLVII\\nOh thoughtless man, be not deceived by this world, since thou\\nknowest its pursuits Throw not thy precious life to the wind.\\nHasten to seek thy friend, and delay not to drink wine.\\nCLVIII\\nFor the love of thee which possesses my heart I am ready to accept\\nall manner of reproof, and if I break my vow, I will bear the blame\\nthereof. Oh, if until the last day I should endure the pain thou\\ncausest me, the time would seem but too short.\\nCLIX\\nO heart, my heart, since the very basis of all this world s gear is\\nbut a fable, why do you adventure in such an infinite abyss of sor-\\nrows Trust thyself to fate, uphold the evil, for what the pencil has\\ntraced will not be effaced for you.\\nCLX\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0Qf all who have set out upon the long journey, who has come back,\\nthat I may ask him tidings My friends, take heed to let naught go\\nby in the hope of hopes for, be sure, you will not come back again.\\nCLXI\\nSince every waning night, every waning day, cuts off a cantle of\\nyour life, do not allow these nights and days to heap you thick with\\ndust. Daff them gaily by, for, alas, what a world of time you will be\\ngone hence while nights and days still wax and wane.\\n7 97", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0143.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCLXII\\nThat heavenly wheel, which tells its tale to no man, has mercilessly\\nslain a thousand monarchs and a thousand favourites; drink your\\nwine, then, for it gives back life to none. Alas, no one of those that\\nquit this world will e er come back to it.\\nCLxni\\nO thou, who lordest over the lords of the earth, dost thou know the\\ndays when wine delighteth the heart They are in good sooth the\\nMonday, the Tuesday, the Wednesday, the Thursday, the Friday,\\nthe Saturday, and the Sunday to boot.\\nCLXIV\\nHeedless man, thy fleshly body is naught, yon vault built up of\\nseven shining heavens is naught. Give thyself up to all delight in\\nthis kingdom of misrule, for our life is only bound to it for a moment\\nand that moment itself is nothing.\\nCLXV\\nThis caravan of life passeth in a strange manner beware, oh,\\nfriend, for it is the time of thy pleasure which fleeth from thee thus.\\nTrouble not thyself, therefore, for the grief which awaiteth our\\nfriends on the morrow, for behold how the night passeth away\\nCLXVI\\nOnce, seeing an old man stagger from the wine-shop, with -his\\nprayer mat on his shoulders, and a flagon in his hand, I said to him,\\nWhat means this, oh, my master and he made answer to me,\\nDrink wine, my brother, for this world is but a breath of wind.\\nCLXVII\\nA love-lorn nightingale, straying into a garden, and beholding the\\nroses smiling, and the cup filled with wine, flew to my ear and sang,\\nBe advised, friend, there is no recalling the vanished life.\\n9 8", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0144.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCLXVIII\\nHe who has laid the foundations of the earth, of the wheel of the\\nheavens, what wounds has He not hollowed out in the unhappy-\\nheart of man What ruby-coloured lips has He not buried in this\\nlittle globe of earth What musk-scented tresses has He not hidden\\nin the bosom of the dust?\\nCLXIX\\nKhayyam, your body is like unto a tent, the soul thereof is the\\nsultan, and his last home is nothingness. When the sultan quits his\\npavilion, the fatal ferrash strikes it, to set it up at another stage.\\nCLXX\\nEach drop of wine which the cup-bearer pours into the cup will\\nquench the fire of grief in thy burning eyes. Is it not said, O great\\nGod, that wine is an elixir which drives away all the sorrows that\\nweigh down the heart\\nCLXXI\\nWhen the violet has dyed her veil, when the zephyr has made the\\nroses expand their leaves, then he who is wise will drink wine with\\na companion whose body is white as silver, and turn down the cup\\nupon the earth.\\nCLXXII\\nThe devout man can never value the divine mercy as we do. A\\nstranger can never understand thee like thine own familiar friend.\\nThou sayest, If thou sinnest, I will send thee to hell. Go, tell that\\nto one who knoweth Thee not.\\nclxxiii\\nO my heart, act as if all the wealth of this world were thine\\nthink that this house is furnished with all things, that it is adorned\\nsumptuously; and pass thy life joyfully in this distracted sphere.\\nSay to thyself that thou restest here for but a few days, and wilt then\\narise and depart.\\n99\\n4. ore.", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0145.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCLXXIV\\nThe days of our abiding on this earth are worthless without wine\\nand the cup-bearer, worthless without the soft melodies of Iram s\\nlute. I have studied closely the course of earthly things, and I know\\nthat joy and pleasure alone are dear, all else is worthless.\\nCLXXV\\nDrawn along by the flying feet of time, which only bestows its\\ngifts on the least worthy, my life is overwhelmed with pain and\\ntravail. In the garden of mankind my heart is closed up like the bud\\nof a rose, and like a tulip it is drenched with blood.\\nCLXXVI\\nKhayyam, who sewed the tents of learning, has fallen suddenly\\ninto the crater of despair, and here lies calcined. The knife of Fate\\nhas cut his being s thread, and the impatient world has sold him for\\na song. 1\\nCLXXVII\\nIn spring time I love to sit in the meadow with a paramour perfect\\nas a houri and a goodly jar of wine, and though I may be blamed for\\nthis, yet hold me lower than a dog if ever I dream of paradise.\\nCLXXVIII\\nSweet is it to drink red wine in a fair cup. Sweet it is to hear the\\nwedded melodies of lutes and harps. The fanatic who recks not of\\nthe joys of a cup of wine is pleasing only when he is a thousand miles\\naway from us.\\nCLXXIX\\nGet thyself dancing girls, wine, and a mistress as fair as the houris,\\nif indeed there be houris, or seek out a limpid stream gushing by a\\nmeadow, if any meadow be, and ask for no better lot. Vex yourself\\nno more with an extinguished hell, for truly there is no other para-\\ndise than this, if any paradise there be.\\nSee FitzGerald Preface.\\n100", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0146.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCLXXX\\nBe on your guard, my friend, for you will be sundered from your\\nsoul, you will pass behind the curtain of the secrets of heaven.\\nDrink wine, for you know not whence you come. Be merry, for you\\nknow not where you go.\\nCLXXXI\\nAlthough the call of duty has led my feet to the mosque, it is not\\ntruly to lift up my voice in prayer. I stole one day from there a\\ncarpet, and since this is worn out, I have come here again and\\nagain.\\nCLXXXII\\nLet us no longer allow the cares of this world to oppress our souls.\\nLet us give ourselves up entirely to drinking wine. Pure limpid and\\nrose-coloured. Wine, oh, my friend, is the blood of the world, and\\nthe world is our murderer how can we then refrain from drinking\\nthe blood of him who has spilt ours\\nCLXXXIII\\nThere came a voice at dawning from the wine-shop, crying,\\nArise, ye haunters of the tavern-divan, arise, and fill the cannikin\\nbefore Fate comes to fill the cup of your being.\\nCLXXXIV\\nO, my soul drink this divine nectar which hath not been stirred\\ndrink to the memory of the enchanting idols who enslave the heart\\nof man. Wine is the blood of the grape, my beloved, and the vine\\nsays to thee, Drink of it, since I have placed it under thy control.\\nCLXXXV\\nIn the season of flowers, drink wine the colour of roses, drink to\\nthe plaintive notes of the flute, and the melodious sound of the harp.\\nI for my part drink thereof and rejoice, and it is congenial to me. If\\nthou wilt not drink, what is that to me Go, then, and eat stones.\\n101", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0147.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCLXXXVI\\nWhen the memory of my offences cometh to my mind, the fire,\\nwhich in former days burnt in my heart now covers my face with\\nshame. However, it is well known that a generous master will pardon\\nthe slave who repenteth.\\nCLXXXVII\\nOh, my soul, thou and I together are like unto a compass. We\\nform but one body, having two points. Truly, we move but from the\\none point, and make the round of the circle but the day cometh, and\\nis not far off, when the two points must reunite. 1\\nCLXxxvni\\nAt the first, life was given unto me without my consent, therefore\\nmy own existence filled me with astonishment. Finally, with regret\\nwe lapse out of this world, understanding neither the purpose of our\\ncoming, our stay, nor our departure.\\nCLXXXIX\\nI am a rebellious slave where is Thy will My heart is defiled\\nwith sins where is Thy light Where is Thy control If Thou wilt\\nonly bestow paradise on those who obey Thy laws it is a debt which\\nThou payest, and where then is Thy mercy\\nCXC\\nBelieve not that I fear the world, or that the thought of death and\\nthe departure of my soul fills me with terror. Since death is a truth,\\nwhat have I to fear from it All that I fear is, that my life has not\\nbeen well spent.\\n1 See FitzGerald s Notes, lvi.\\n102", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0148.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCXCI\\nI would sell the diadem of the khan, the crown of the king, to pur-\\nchase the song of the flute girl. Let us sell the turban, yea, and the\\ngarment of silk, for a cup of wine let us sell the chaplet which alone\\ncontains a multitude of hypocrisy.\\nCXCII\\nWhen the tree of my existence is uprooted, when my members\\nare scattered, let them make pitchers of my dust, and let them fill the\\npitchers with wine thus shall the dust be quickened again.\\nCXCIII\\nOh Thou before whose eyes sin is of no moment, say to him who\\nhas the wisdom to announce this great truth, that to the mind of the\\nphilosopher it is the crown of folly to make the divine prescience the\\nsupport of sin.\\nCXCIV\\nO my friend, come hither, let us forget to-day and to-morrow, and\\nsteal this one short hour of life. When to-morrow we shall have\\nabandoned this old dwelling-place, we shall become the contempo-\\nraries of all those who departed hence for the last seven thousand\\nyears.\\ncxcv\\nThis world has gained nothing by my sojourn here below, and its\\nglory and greatness will not be lessened by my departure. I have\\nnever heard with my ears, and have never been told by anyone the\\nreason of my coming or going.\\nCXCVI\\nAll hidden things are known to the Eternal Wisdom, who number-\\neth every hair of our head, and hath fashioned all our members. By\\nhypocrisy thou canst deceive mankind, but how wilt thou deceive the\\nAll-Knowing\\n103", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0149.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCXCVII\\nWine giveth wings to the heavy-hearted. Wine is a mole on the\\ncheek of wisdom. We have not drunk of it during the Ramazan\\nwhich has fled, but behold now the night of the month of the drink-\\ning of wine has arrived.\\nCXCVIII\\nSee that thou art never left without wine, for it is wine which fills\\nthe heart of man with wisdom and with knowledge of religion. If the\\nDevil had tasted one drop thereof, he would have adored Adam, and\\nwould have bowed himself down before him two thousand times.\\nCXCIX\\nArise, and strike the earth with thy feet, while we accompany thee\\nwith our hands. Let us drink in the presence of beautiful women\\nwith languorous Narcissus eyes. Gladness beginneth not but with\\nthe twentieth cup, and it is wonderfully rounded when one has come\\nto the sixtieth.\\nCC\\nNever despair, for all thy sins, of the divine mercy of the Merciful\\nMaster, for if you were to die to-day, dead drunk, to-morrow He\\nwould pardon your corrupted bones.\\nCCI\\nTake the cup in your hand, and lift up your voice in the choir of\\nthe nightingales, for if it were seemly to drink the blood of the vine\\nwith no sweet concord of harmonious sound, the wine itself would\\nmake no sound in gurgling from the flagon.\\nCCII\\nI have closed my heart against covetousness and I am thus\\nreleased from my debt both to those who are men, and those who\\ndeserve not that name, but since there existeth only one friend who\\nwill hold me by the hand, I am what I am to him alone do I render\\naccount.\\n104", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0150.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nccm\\nO Wheel of Heaven, thy revolving course displeases me. Set me\\nfree, therefore, for I am unworthy of thy yoke. If thy purpose always\\nholds to grant thy favours only to the fools in their folly, I am not\\nover-wise nor over-learned.\\nccrv\\nGod hath promised us wine in Paradise. Therefore how can it be\\ndenied to us in this world An Arab, a prey to drunkenness, one\\nday severed with his sword the legs of a certain camel. It is for\\nthis cause that the prophet has declared wine forbidden.\\nccv\\nSince, of all thy past delights, there remaineth to thee only the\\nmemory, since the only faithful friend remaining to thee is the wine-\\ncup, since in truth it is thy only possession, rejoice therefore in it,\\nand let not the cup escape from thy hands.\\nCCVI\\nIn this mad world of medley, make haste to pick some flowers.\\nSit in the high places of laughter, and press the cup to your lips.\\nHeaven is heedless alike of sin or service, so make merry after your\\nheart s desire.\\nCCVII\\nMy love has touched the topmost of its flame. The beauty of her\\nwho holds my heart in thrall is beyond praise. My heart speaks, but\\nmy tongue, made mute, refuses utterance to my thoughts. High\\nheaven, was aught ever seen so strange I am racked with thirst,\\nand yet a fresh cool stream flows before me.\\ncovin\\nMay the tavern always be thronged with revellers, may fire con-\\nsume the skirts of the saintly, may their robes fall in rags, may their\\nblue gowns be trampled under the toper s feet.\\n*\u00c2\u00b05", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0151.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "RUBAlYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCIX\\nI am more industrious than thee, thou sage of the town. Though\\nI be drunk, I am better than thee, for thou drinkest human bleed\\nand I the blood of the vine. Be just and pronounce which of us two\\nis the most sanguinary.\\nCCX\\nAlas How long the time will be when we are no longer in this\\nworld, and the world will still exist. There will remain of us neither\\nfame nor trace. The world was not imperfect before we came into\\nit it will be in no wise changed when we are departed hence.\\nCCXI\\nHow long will you remain the dupe of this world s delicate dyes\\nand odours When will you cease from vexing about the good and\\nthe bad Were you the fountain of youth, were you the very water\\nof life itself, that should not save you from sinking into the bosom of\\nthe earth.\\nccxn\\nOur being must be effaced from the book of life, we must expire in\\nthe arms of death. Oh, enchanting cup-bearer, bring me the liquor\\njoyfully, since I must become earth.\\nccxm\\nOn the day when the juice of the grape does not turn my brain,\\nthis world has nothing to give but that which is poison to me. Yes,\\nthe misery of this wretched world is a poison wine is its only anti-\\ndote. To escape then from the terror of the poison, I will take the\\nantidote.\\nCCXIV\\nBehold the little handful of fools, who hold the world in their\\nhands, and who in their simple folly think themselves the wisest of\\nthe wise. Vex not yourself, for in their snug content they call all\\nmen heretics who are not of a kindred folly.\\n106", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0152.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nccxv\\nAbandon thyself to enjoyment, for sorrow is without end. The\\nstars will assemble in the heavens in their former courses, and of the\\nbricks which they make from thy body will they build palaces for\\nothers.\\nCCXVI\\nHow long will the unrighteous deeds of others cover our face with\\nshame How long shall we be consumed in the furnace of this vain\\nworld? Arise and like a man cast aside this world s sadness.\\nTo-day at least is a day of rejoicing come, let us drink rose-\\ncoloured wine.\\nCCXVII\\nI wage a warfare without end against my passions, but what can I\\ndo The remembrance of my iniquities is like a sore burden, but\\nwhat can I do I believe truly, that in Thy mercy thou wilt blot out\\nmy sins. But the knowledge that my dishonour is not hid from\\nThee remaineth what can I do\\nCCXVIII\\nThose who have trod the world beneath their feet, who have\\nwandered over the world in the pursuit of gain, have never learned\\nthe living truth of life.\\nCCXIX\\nThe day when the celestial steed of golden stars was saddled,\\nwhen the proud planets and the constellations were created from\\nthat same day the divan of Fate decreed our lot. How then can we\\nbe held accountable, since ours is the position that has been made for\\nus?\\nCCXX\\nMy soul is often made sorrowful by the movement of the wheel of\\nthe skies. I struggle against my vile nature. Oh that I had wis-\\ndom enough to hide myself forever from this world, or understanding\\nto live therein, without allowing it to possess my heart\\n107", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0153.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCXXI\\nWoe s me for the best that slips between our fingers woe s me\\nfor all the hearts that death has drowned in blood woe s me that\\nnone return from the hither world with tales of those who have\\ndeparted thence.\\nCCXXII\\nThat which renews our youth is wine it is the living juice of the\\nvine, and the company of the fair. And since it was by water that\\nthis world of nothingness was brought to destruction, all that is left\\nfor us is to destroy ourselves with wine, and to pass our life in deli-\\ncate drunkenness.\\nCCXXIII\\nAlas, the season of my youth decays, the kindly spring of our\\ndelights goes by, and that delightful bird, whose name is Youth, has\\nflown. It came, I know not whence, and goes, I know not whither.\\nCCXXIV\\nWhen I am dead, smooth my tomb down to the level of the earth\\nwithout delay, and make me in this wise an example to mankind.\\nThen knead the ashes of my body with wine, and make thereof the\\ncover of a jar.\\nCCXXV\\nBring hither the captain ruby in a cup of crystal, bring hither the\\ndesired and the beloved of all generous men. Since thou knowest\\nthat all the dwellers on the earth are but dust, and that when the\\nwind passeth over them they are no more, bring hither the wine.\\nCCXXVI\\nOh Thou, whom all creation seeketh in madness and despair, the\\ndervish and the rich man alike find no way to reach unto Thee. Thy\\nname is in the mouth of all men, but all are deaf. Thou art present\\nto all eyes, but all are blind.\\n1 08", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0154.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCXXVII\\nHow long will you utter these vain complainings against the order\\nof the earth? Arise, and make every moment instinct with joy.\\nWhile the world offers so many smiling meadows, drink your crim-\\nson wine from a brimming cup.\\nCCXXVHI\\nWhen you find yourself in the fellowship of some cypress-slender\\ngirl, more tender-tinted than the early rose, do not hold aloof from\\nthe flowers of the meadow, do not let the cup fall from your hand be-\\nfore the angel of death, like unto the wild wind that scatters abroad\\nthe rose-leaves, tears asunder the veil of thy existence.\\nCCXXIX\\nThat high and ominous wheel whose trade it is to play the tyrant\\nhas never solved for anyone the knot of any perplexity. Where er it\\nsees a bleeding heart it speeds to grind upon the open wound.\\nCCXXX\\nThis vault of heaven under which we move in a vain shadow, may\\nbe likened unto a lantern; the sun is the focus, and we, like the\\nfigures, live there in amazement.\\nCCXXXI\\nThis mocking world holds naught but shadows and phantasms.\\nHe is indeed unlucky who loses his way in the crowd thereof. Rest,\\nfriend, drink thy wine, open thy heart to mirth, and free yourself thus\\nfrom all these shadows and phantasms.\\nCCXXXII\\nDo not suffer vain thoughts to enter the gate of your mind. Drink\\nwhile the years drive by, let the cup be always full to the lips. Pay\\nyour court to the daughter of the vine, and be glad, for it is better\\nto enjoy the forbidden daughter than the permitted mother.\\niog", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0155.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCXXXIII\\nNot once has the wheel of the heavens been favourable to me.\\nNever for one moment have I listened to a sweet voice, never for one\\nday have I tasted a fleeting happiness, but therefor I have been\\noverwhelmed in an abyss of woe.\\nccxxxrv\\nOh what a misfortune that it is the ignorant or inexperienced\\nwho possess the bread well baked the incomplete, who possess\\ncomplete riches The eyes of the beautiful girls are the joy of the\\nheart, and it is mere knaves and slaves who are their owners.\\nccxxxv\\nO Khayyam, although indeed the Wheel of Heaven, in setting its\\ntent, has closed the door to discussions, nevertheless the Eternal\\nCup-Bearer has formed in the cup of creation a thousand other\\nKhayyams, like unto thee.\\nCCXXXVI\\nThe day when I shall no longer be known to myself, and when\\nthey speak of me as a tale that is told then my heart s desire is that\\nfrom my ashes may be formed a wine jar for the tavern.\\nccxxxvn\\nThou hast fashioned me of water and clay how then can I alter\\nit? Whether I be made of wool or of silk, it is Thou who hast\\nwoven how then can I alter it Thou hast predestined my good\\nand evil deeds how can I alter it\\nThose mighty and pompous lords, so orgulous in their estates, are\\nso devoured by care and sorrow that life is become a bitter burthen.\\nYet, marvellous to note, they will not hail with the name of man\\nthose who are not, as they are, the slave of their passions.\\n1 10", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0156.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCXXXIX\\nBehold we have fled, and the season sighs for our going; for out\\nof a hundred pearls, but one is thridded. Alas, it is owing to the\\nignorance of mankind that a hundred thousand noble thoughts\\nremain unuttered.\\nCCXL\\nWith a beloved friend for my companion, that which delights me\\nis a cup of wine. When my heart is brimmed with grief, my eyes\\nflow a fountain of tears. Alas, since this wretched world is for us of\\nshort duration, all that is left for us is to pass our, life in drunkenness.\\nCCXLI\\nAn earthly love can seldom inspire perfection. It is like a half\\nextinct fire which no longer gives forth heat. He who loveth in\\ntruth, should not know rest, or food, or sleep, through months, or\\nthrough years, by day, or by night.\\nCCXLII\\nOne cup of wine is worth a hundred hearts, a hundred faiths one\\ndrop of wine is of more value than the empire of kings What is\\nthere in truth to be named before it Its bitterness is beyond all the\\nsweets of life.\\nCCXLIII\\nHow many men do I behold plunged in the sleep of ignorance\\nupon the earth, how many already buried in its bosom When I\\ncast my eyes over this desert of nothingness, how many souls\\ndo I see who have not yet arrived how many who have already\\ndeparted\\nCCXLIV\\nSeeing that Thy mercy is vouchsafed to me, I have no fear for my\\niniquities; since Thou possessest all goodness, I need not be anxious\\nto provide myself for the journey. The leaves of the Book have no\\nterrors for me, since Thy clemency has cleared my countenance.\\nIll", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0157.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCXLV\\nYesterday I beheld at the bazaar a potter smiting with all his\\nforce the clay he was kneading. The earth seemed to cry out to him,\\nI also was such as thou treat me therefore less harshly.\\nCCXLVI\\nSince thou ownest only that which hath been vouchsafed to thee,\\nlet not thy heart be given over to covetousness. Fix not thy affec-\\ntions on the things of this world, for at the end of the play thou wilt\\nhave to leave all, and convey thyself away.\\nCCXLVII\\nTo-day, the weather is pleasant, it is neither hot nor cold. The\\ndew washes the dust from the face of the roses, and the nightingale\\ncrieth to the yellow flowers, saying, Ye must drink wine.\\nCCXLVin\\nMay I always hold in my hand a brimming flagon! May my\\nlove never wane for those fair girls, like unto Houris. Folk say,\\nGod bids you renounce these joys, but if He gave me such an order,\\nI should not obey it. Perish the thought\\nCCXLIX\\nThe wheel of the heavens only increaseth our woes beyond meas-\\nure. She giveth nothing to us here that she does not as soon snatch\\naway. Oh, if those who have not yet come into the world did but\\nknow the miseries which await them, truly they would never come.\\nCCL\\nAt the moment when my soul shall be delivered from death, when\\nmy members shall be scattered from the tree of my life like dry leaves\\nbefore the wind, O, then, with what joy I shall pass out of this world\\nthrough a sieve, before my own dust is passed through it by the\\nBuilder.\\n112", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0158.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCLI\\nBehold the dawn arise, O beardless lad, and fill with ruddy wine\\nthe clear vessel, for you may seek hereafter, and seek in vain, this\\nfair hour which this world of shadows lends you.\\nCCLII\\nThose who by their learning are the elect of the world, who by\\ntheir intellect climb the heights of heaven, those who scale the firma-\\nment in their search after the things of Divine Wisdom, lose their\\nwits, seized with dizziness and all amazement.\\nCCLIII\\nWhen you drink, drink with a witty fellowship, drink with fair\\nwomen with smiling lips and tulip-tinted cheeks. Drink not too\\ndeep, do not babble about it. Do not make it a catch word drink,\\nbut drink discreetly, and in secret.\\nCCLIV\\nLet not the constant man forswear the juice of the vine, for wine\\ncontains all the virtue of the very water of life. If anyone will\\nrenounce his wine during the month of Ramazan, let him at least\\nalso renounce the recitation of his prayers.\\nCCLV\\nDo not forswear the juice of the vine if you have any store thereof.\\nFor many a repenting sign will follow such a sacrifice. The roses\\nshed their petals, the nightingales cast their songs abroad upon the\\nair would it be wise in such an hour to forswear the flagon\\nCCLVI\\nTo-morrow I shall have leaped over the mountain which divideth\\nus, and shall seize the cup in my hand with surpassing joy. My\\nbeloved is gracious, the hour is fair and favouring. If I hasten not\\nto rejoice in this moment, when shall I know joy and gladness\\n8 113", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0159.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nccLvn\\nThey tell us of a paradise, peopled with houris, flowing with wine\\nand honey. Then must it be lawful to love wine and women here,\\nsince such is the goal to which our existence tends.\\nCCLVIII\\nSo long as the friend refuses to pour for me the soul-inspiring\\nwine, so long as the skies refuse to shower a thousand kisses on my\\nface and feet, so long will it be idle, when the holy month is at hand,\\nto bid me give my flagon the go-by. How can I renounce it when\\nGod has not so ordered me?\\nCCLIX\\nThe very hills would leap for joy did you but wash their steeps\\nwith wine. Only a fool is scornful of the flagon. You who bid me\\nrenounce the juice of the vine, learn that wine is the soul, the\\ncomplement of man.\\nCCLX\\nIn the ways of the soul thou must walk with understanding. About\\nthe things of this world thou must keep silence. Though thou hast\\nears, eyes, and tongue, thou must be as if thou hadst them not.\\nCCLXI\\nDrink your wine in the fellowship of those slender beings, the\\ncrimson of whose cheeks disturbs the heart. Friend, when you are\\nbitten by the serpent of sorrow, drink the antidote. For my part I\\ndrink and I boast thereof, may it prove good to me. If you will not\\ndrink, what would you that I should do Go, fool, and eat the earth.\\nCCLXH\\nHe who, in this world, possesses half a loaf and can shelter himself\\nin any nest, he who is neither the master, nor slave of any man, tell\\nhim his lot is sweet and tranquil, and he should live content therein.\\n114", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0160.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCLXIII\\nSometimes the draught of our life is clear, sometimes turbid.\\nSometimes our robes are wool, sometimes of silk. All that is of no\\nmoment to the enlightened soul but is it of no moment to die\\nCCLXTV\\nThe greatest wisdom consists in drawing the delight of our hearts\\nfrom the wine flagon letting not our thoughts dwell on the present or\\nthe past and finally in releasing, if but for a moment, from the bonds\\nof reason, this soul which groans in this prison-house wherein it is\\nfor a time enclosed.\\nCCLXV\\nIf you are indeed my friends, silence your vain discourse, and\\nsoften my sorrows by filling my cup with wine. When I am turned\\nto dust, mould of my dust a brick, and place that brick in some gap\\nin the walls of a tavern.\\nCCLXVI\\nNo man has pierced the secrets of the cause. No man has ever\\npassed a step outside himself. I watch, and I observe only imperfec-\\ntion from the pupil to the Master, imperfection in all that is born of\\nwoman.\\nCCLXVII\\nFolk talk of Paradise where houris dwell, where the Heavenly\\nriver flows, where wine and honey and sugar abound! Bah! Fill\\nme quick a cup of wine and put it in my hand, for a present pleasure\\nis worth a thousand future joys.\\nccLxvni\\nFrom time to time my heart seems cabined in its cage. It is a\\ndisgrace to be thus blended of water and of earth. I dreamed of\\nbreaking down this prison-house, but then my foot would slip on the\\nstone of the law of the Koran.\\n5", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0161.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCLXIX\\nThey tell us that the moon of Ramazan is close at hand, that we\\nmust forswear wine. Well and good, then I propose at the end of\\nthe feast to drink so deep that I shall be drunken to the very end of\\nthe sacred month.\\nCCLXX\\nThe potters who without cease plunge their hands in the clay,\\nwho give all their mind, all their skill, to form it, how long will they\\ncontinue to trample it under foot, to smite it with their hands\\nWhat then are their thoughts Do they not consider that it is the\\nmould of mankind they treat thus\\nCCLXXI\\nDrink, then, drink of the wine which giveth eternal life. Drink,\\nfor it is the fountain of life and of youth. It burneth as a flame, but\\nlike unto the water of life it dispelleth sorrow drink therefore.\\ncclxxh\\nHas Thy empire gained in glory by my service, O Lord my God\\nhas Thy grandeur suffered aught by my sins Forgiveness, God,\\nand punish not, for I know that You punish late and pardon early.\\nCCLXXIII\\nThere are those who in the madness of their arrogance are fallen\\ninto the depths of pride, others again who abandon themselves to the\\nquest of houris and celestial palaces. When at last the veil is drawn\\nit will be revealed that they all have fallen far, far, far, from Thee.\\ncclxxiv\\nAlas, my heart can find no comfort, my soul is on the point of\\nescaping from my lips, without having attained its desire. Alas my\\nlife has passed without knowledge, and the essence of this love\\nremaineth unknown.\\n116", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0162.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCLXXV\\nSeize the sparkling cup in thy hand, as soon as the yellow day-\\nbreak appeareth. Truth is sharp, it has been said, in the mouth of\\nmankind, for this cause, it may be, that wine is very truth.\\nCCLXXVI\\nHow long wilt thou expend thy existence on vain self-love, or in\\nsearching for the source of being and of not being? Drink wine,\\nthen, for since thy life must be followed by death, thou hadst best\\npass it in sleep or in drunkenness.\\nCCLXXVH\\nO, beloved, before care seizeth thee, bid them serve us with wine\\nthe colour of roses. Thou art not made of gold, O thoughtless fool,\\nthat thou shouldst hope to be dug up after thou art laid in the earth.\\nccLxxvin\\nIt would be hard for my hand, familiar with the flagon, to handle\\nthe Koran, and rest upon the pulpit. It is different with you, you\\ndusty devotee as for me, I am a sodden swiller, and I do not know\\nthat flame can fire fluid.\\nCCLXXIX\\nBe not desirous of the things of this world. If you would live in\\nhappiness, break in sunder the bonds which hold you captive to\\nearthly joys and sorrows. Be content, for the heavens move in their\\naccustomed course, and your life is of short duration.\\nCCLXXX\\nOh, my friend, wherefore vex thyself with the problem of existence.\\nWherefore trouble thy heart and thy soul thus with idle questioning\\nLive thy life in joy and gladness, for after all, thy counsel was not\\nasked in the ordering of human affairs.\\n117", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0163.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCLXXXI\\nIt is said that there will be judgment at the last day, and that the\\nBeloved Friend will be enraged. But from the Eternal Goodness,\\ngood alone can proceed. Fear not, therefore, for thou shalt find\\nmercy at the last.\\nCCLXXXII\\nDrink wine, before thy name has vanished from the world, for\\nwhen that nectar floweth into thy heart, care will depart therefrom.\\nUnbind the tresses of the loved one s hair before the sinews of thy\\nown bones are themselves unbound.\\nCCLXXXIII\\nBehold the dawn arises. Let us rejoice in the present moment\\nwith a cup of crimson wine in our hand. As for honour and fame, let\\nthat fragile crystal be dashed to pieces against the earth.\\nCCLXXXIV\\nNo one has ever drawn aside the veil of Fate. To no one are the\\nhidden things of the Divine Wisdom made known. For seventy-two\\nyears I have thought thereon, by day and night, but I have learned\\nnothing, and the enigma remaineth unsolved.\\nCCLXXXV\\nSee that thou drinkest not thy wine in the company of some clown,\\nriotous, having neither wit nor manners. Nought but dissensions\\ncan come of it. In the night-time thou wilt suffer from his drunken-\\nness, his clamour and his folly. On the morrow his prayers and his\\npenitence will cause thy head to ache.\\nCCLXXXVI\\nOh, Wheel of Heaven, you fill my soul with sadness, you rend my\\ngarb of joy, you change the air I breathe into water, the water I drink\\ninto earth.\\n118", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0164.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCLXXXVII\\nOnce thou art in the tavern, thou canst only make thy ablutions\\nwith wine. When thy name hath once been befouled there, thou\\ncanst not again cleanse it. Bring hither the wine therefore, since the\\ncovering of our shame hath been torn beyond repair.\\nCCLXXXVIII\\nWhat dweller on this earth has ever folded in his embrace a fair\\none with rose-tinted cheeks, who has not first received some thorn in\\nthe heart from time Behold this comb, before it can be suffered to\\ntouch the scented hair of beauty, it has to be hacked into a ridge of\\nteeth.\\nCCLXXXIX\\nDrink wine, for therein thou shalt find forgetfulness for all thy\\nanxieties, and it will deliver thee from thy meditations on the prob-\\nlems of the earth. Renounce not this alchemy, for if thou drinkest\\nbut one measure thereof, it will scatter to the winds thy endless\\ncares.\\nCCXC\\nOpen to me, O God, the gate of Thy gifts. Give me to eat, that I\\nmay owe nothing to Thy creatures, give me to drink till drunkenness\\ndrowns sorrow.\\nCCXCI\\nWine is forbidden, it is said, but it is only forbidden in regard to\\nhim who makes no measure of what he drinks, and the one with\\nwhom he drinks. All the conditions once held in observance, will not\\nthe wise man drink\\nCCXCII\\nThey who dwell within the tombs have become dust and ashes,\\nare scattered to the four winds, and divided from each other. Alas\\nwhat drink is this with which mankind is filled, and which holds him\\nthus infatuated until the day of the last judgment\\n119", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0165.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCXCIII\\nBe welcome, solace of my soul, scarcely can I believe that thou\\nart here. Drink, for God s love, if not for mine, drink wine till I can\\ndoubt thy being.\\nCCXCIV\\nThere are those who have never passed the night in the search\\nafter truth, who have no thoughts beyond their narrow lives. These\\nthou mayest behold clothed in the garments of the great, and dispar-\\naging the walker in the perfect way.\\nCCXCV\\nThou shouldst not plant the tree of bitterness in thy heart, but\\nrather flutter at all times the leaves of the book of joy. Thou shouldst\\ndrink thy wine, and pursue the desire of thy heart, for behold the\\nlength of thy stay on this earth is quickly measured.\\nCCXCVI\\nThou settest snares around us manifold, and sayest, Death to ye,\\nif ye enter therein. Thou layest the lures Thyself, and then givest\\nover Thy victim to doom.\\nccxvn\\nEnjoy thy life while it remaineth to thee, for many other wayfarers\\nwill journey through the world. The soul crieth out after the body\\nhas been torn away from it, and the crown of thy head will be\\ntrampled under the feet of potters.\\nccxcvni\\nHappy is the heart of him who hath gone through life unknown.\\nWhom the vestment of hypocrisy hath never clothed, who like unto\\nthe sage is translated into the skies, instead of rejoicing like an owl\\namong the ruins of this world.\\n120", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0166.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCXCEX\\nRose, thou art like unto a lovely face Rose, thou art like unto a\\nprecious ruby. O, shifting Fortune, every second you seem strange\\nto me, yet you are like unto a familiar friend.\\nCCC\\nThe drunkard who is rich bringeth himself to destruction, his\\nriotous drunkenness is a scandal to mankind. I will therefore place\\nthis hashish in my cup of wine and thus I will strangle the serpent of\\nmy grief.\\nCCCI\\nThe drinker alone can understand the language of the rose and of\\nthe vine, and not the faint-hearted, and the cheap of wit. To those\\nwho have no knowledge of hidden things, ignorance is to be pardoned,\\nfor the drunkard only is capable of tasting the delights which are an\\naccompaniment thereof.\\ncccn\\nOpen the gate, for only Thou canst open it show me the road, for\\nonly Thou canst show it. I will reach no hand to those who would\\nfain uplift me, for Thou alone art eternal.\\ncccni\\nLulled by a vain hope, I scattered to the winds a portion of my life,\\nand that before I had known in this world a day of enjoyment. Alas\\nI fear now that fleeting time will not allow me to repay myself for the\\ndays that are past.\\nCCCIV\\nIt is I who am the chief frequenter of the tavern, it is I who wade\\nknee deep in rebellion against Thy commandment. It is I who the\\nwhole night through, soaked in wine, hurl the complaint of my\\nwounded heart against the ears of God.\\n121", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0167.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncccv\\nWhen I am drunk, the whole world might roll like a ball into a hole,\\nand I should not care more than for a barley-corn. Yestere en I\\npawned myself at the tavern for a stoup of wine, Lo, what an excel-\\nlent gage says the tapster.\\nCCCVI\\nFor how many nights has sleep fled from our eyelids, before the\\ncruel parting has torn our hearts asunder Arise, my beloved, and\\nlet us live for an instant before the breath of dawn blows upon us.\\nAlas, for how long a time it will still breathe when our breath is\\nextinct\\ncccvn\\nTwo things are the base of wisdom, the pearls of tradition eat\\nnot of all that is eaten, hold aloof from all that is evil.\\nCCCVIII\\nHow long wilt thou condemn us, O foolish devotee We are the\\nfrequenters of the tavern, we are given over to drunkenness without\\ncease. Thou art entirely absorbed in thy chaplet, in thy hypocrisy,\\nin thy vile devices. We follow the desires of our hearts with the\\nwine-cup forever in our hand, and our loved one beside us.\\nCCCIX\\nThe steady march of springs and autumns sweeps the leaves from\\nour life s trees. Drink wine, friend, for the wise have wisely said,\\nLife s cares are a poison, and wine its best antidote.\\ncccx\\nThou who hast burned, who burnest, who deservest still to burn,\\nfeeding the fire of hell, why dost thou call on God to pardon Omar\\nWhat has God to do with thee How darest thou appeal to His pity 1\\n1 See Fitzgerald Preface.\\n122", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0168.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCCXI\\nArt thou full of heaviness Take thou a morsel of hashish, as\\nlarge as a grain of barley, or drink but a small measure of rose-coloured\\nwine. Thou art become a sage, truly Thou mayst not drink this,\\nthou takest not that! Nothing is left to thee but to eat pebbles go,\\nand eat them then.\\nCCCXII\\nNo longer, O Reason, will I continue to be thy slave wherefore\\nshould I care if in this world I remain for fifty years, or but one day\\nis left to me Come, let us drink wine from the flagon before we our-\\nselves become pots in the shop of the potter.\\nCCCXIII\\nI met a wise man in a drunkard s house, and asked him tidings of\\nthe absent ones. He answered, Drink your wine, for many like unto\\nus have gone hence, and not returned again.\\nCCCXIV\\nI know not He who created me belongs to happy paradise or\\nterrible hell, but I know that a cup of wine, a fair paramour, and a\\nlute on the borders of a pleasant land, rejoice my heart in this present\\nhour, and that thou livest on the promise of a future paradise.\\nCCCXV\\nIt is dawn, ever welcome, beloved, sing your song, and drink your\\nwine, for the long array of months has overthrown a thousand kings\\nlike Djemshid and Kai-Khosrou.\\nCCCXVI\\nI drink of the wine, and they who oppose it come about me on the\\nright hand and on the left, to persuade me to renounce it, saying that\\nwine is the enemy of religion. But, therefore, because I hold myself\\nan adversary of the faith, I wish by Allah to drink thereof, for it is\\npermitted to drink the blood of one s enemy.\\n123", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0169.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCCXVII\\nIf I were free to use my will, if I were free from cares of good and\\nevil in this worthless world, how willingly would I choose never to\\nhave come here, never to have lived here, never to depart hence.\\ncccxvm\\nHow is it that grapes are sour at first, and after, sweet How is it\\nthat wine is bitter If a bit of wood is fashioned with a knife into a\\nviol, how is it that the same knife can fashion a lute\\nCCCXIX\\nFrom afar came one foul-favoured, clad about as in smoke of hell,\\nsex-less, horrible. He broke our flagon, spilling the red wine, and\\nboasted that the deed was glorious.\\nCCCXX\\nSince we abide in this world in no fixed habitation, it truly would be\\na fatal error to abstain from the wine-cup and the caresses of our be-\\nloved ones. Oh, man of peace, how long wilt thou continue thy vain\\nreasoning on the creation and eternity of this world? What to me\\nwill be its antiquity or newness when I no longer abide herein\\nCCCXXI\\nPlague upon heart-breaking hypocrisy, O cup-bearer: up, and\\nhither with the wine, O cup-bearer; to buy it, sell the prayer-cloth\\nand the sacred turban, for wine is the end of all my argument.\\nCCCXXII\\nO heart, when thou sittest at the feet of thy beloved, thou hast lost\\nthyself to find thyself. When thou hast quaffed the wine of nothing-\\nness, thou art set apart from those that are, and those that are no\\nmore.\\n124", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0170.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCCXXIII\\nThe commandments of religion only insist on the fulfilling of thy\\nobligation to the Deity. Refuse not thy morsel of bread to another,\\nrefrain thy tongue from slander, and seek not to render evil to thy\\nneighbour. If thou doest this, I myself promise thee the future life.\\nBring hither the wine\\nCCCXXIV\\nBestir thyself, since thou art cooped beneath this inexorable vault,\\ndrink wine, since thou art perforce in this luckless world. If anything\\nfrom first to last be but earth, at least bear thyself as if thou still didst\\nwalk the earth, not as if thou wert already laid beneath it.\\ncccxxv\\nheart, my heart you will never know the secret, you will never\\ntop the wisdom of the wise. Make for yourself a heaven here with\\nwine, for who knows if you will or will not relish the higher heaven\\nCCCXXVI\\nChoose ignorance, if you have wit, that you may take the bowl of\\nwine from the hands of the drinkers of eternity. But if you are igno-\\nrant, ignorance is not for thee. It is not given to all the ignorant to\\ntaste the sweets of ignorance.\\ncccxxvn\\n1 cannot live without wine, I could not bear the body s burden but\\nfor the juice of the vine. I am the slave of that sweet moment when\\nthe cup-bearer offers me yet another draught, and I am too drunk to\\ntake it.\\nCCCXXVIII\\nHow long will these wrangle on the five and four, O cup-bearer\\nIt is as hard to understand one as one hundred thousand, O cup-\\nbearer we are but earth, so tune the lute, O cup-bearer we are but\\nas soft air, bring wine, O cup-bearer\\nJ 25", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0171.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncccxxrx\\nWert thou as wise as Aristotle, wert thou as potent as Roman\\nCaesar, or Monarch of Cathay, drink, drink, I say, in the cup of Djem-\\nshid, for the grave is the end of all, yea, wert thou Bahram himself,\\nthe tomb is thy final abode.\\nCCCXXX\\nA sheikh said to a harlot, Thou art drunk; each moment thou\\nart caught in some one s nets. She answered unto him, O sheikh,\\nI am all that thou callest thy servant, but thou, art thou all thou ap-\\npearest to be\\nCCC3\\nWe have wine, and the well-beloved, and the morning, O cup-\\nbearer. Not from us cometh renunciation, O cup-bearer. How long\\nwilt thou tell the tales of old, O cup-bearer Bring me sweetly the\\npeace of the soul, O cup-bearer.\\nccc:\\nIt is my pleasure to drown my reason in wine our secret sessions\\nare called for the service of the wine-cup O hermit of the heart, do\\nnot, in your pilgrimage, deny yourself the cup be like us, who are\\nfire-worshippers, and delight in the lip of the lover.\\ncccxxxin\\nWe take the Koran in one hand, and the wine-cup in the other, and\\nbehold we are lured now to the lawful, now to the unlawful delight.\\nThus it comes to pass that underneath yon spangled bowl we are\\nneither all faithful, nor all faithless.\\nCCCXXXIV\\nDrink wine, for behold how the juice moisteneth the sides of the\\njar. How often need I say that I have broken the seals of all my\\nvows Yet, is it not better to break the seals of a hundred oaths,\\nthan to break the sides of a jar of wine\\n126", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0172.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\ncccxxxv\\nDo not set the estimate of your life above sixty years do not set\\nyour foot anywhere without being intoxicated. So long as your skull\\nis not made into a jar, do not set the gourd from your shoulders, nor\\nthe cup from your hand.\\nCCCXXXVI\\nArise, dash down the cares of fleeting life, be merry in this mo-\\nmentary being. If heaven had been constant in its gifts to others,\\nremember that you could never have taken their turn of enjoyment.\\nCCCXXXVII\\nWhen I gaze, I seem to see the grass, the streams of paradise.\\nEarth, freed from winter s hell, seems turned to heaven. Rest\\nwith some fair face in this fair place.\\nFollow the footsteps of the kalendars, abide in the tavern, think\\nonly of wine, women, and song. With cup and can, O well-beloved,\\ndrink and cease to battle of vain things.\\nWe have broken all our vows, we have closed the gates of good and\\nevil fame do not blame us for being foolish in our folly, for we are\\ndrunk with the wine of love.\\nCCCXL\\nReach me tulip-tinted wine, pour the pure blood of the vine from\\nthe throat of the flagon, for where in these days shall I find so true a\\nfriend save in the wine-cup\\nCCCXLI\\nThose that have gone hence before us, O cup-bearer, are lapped in\\nthe dust of pride, O cup-bearer drink then thy wine, and hear the\\ntruth I tell the words they whispered were but wind, O cup-bearer.\\n127", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0173.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCCXLII\\nThou hast stamped us with a strange seal, Thou hast made us do\\nstrange deeds. How can I be better than I am, for such as I am, You\\ndrew me from the void\\ncccxLin\\nBe wise, O my fair, and lighten the load of thy lover, for all thy\\ngoodly show will not endure, like all the world thy feet will go down\\nto the dust.\\nCCCXLIV\\nThou who commandest the quick and the dead, the wheel of heaven\\nobeys Thy hand. What if I am evil, am I not Thy slave Which\\nthen is the guilty one Art Thou not Lord of all\\nCCCXLV\\nO offspring of the four and five, art puzzled by the four and five\\nDrink deep, for I have told thee time on time, that once departed,\\nthou returnest no more.\\nCCCXLVI\\nNow Thou art hidden, known of none, now Thou art displayed in\\nall created things. It is for Thy own delight that Thou performest\\nthese wonders, being at once the sport and the spectator.\\nCCCXLVII\\nIf you find fame in a town you are considered evil. If you live in a\\nnook, you are looked upon as a schemer. The best thing for any\\nman, were he a saint or a prophet, would be to live, knowing no one,\\nknown of no one.\\ncccxLvni\\nIt is better to lighten one sad soul, than to people a world. It is\\nnobler to enslave one free man with charity, than to set free a thou-\\nsand slaves.\\n128", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0174.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCCXLIX\\nLo, the moment for the morning wine, hear the muezzin, O cup-\\nbearer. Here is a wine-house, here is wine, we are ready, O cup-\\nbearer. This is no time for prayers, cease babbling of devotion,\\ndrink and be still, O cup-bearer.\\nCCCL\\nIf I am the friend of wine and drunkenness, why should I be\\nblamed If all unlawful deeds produced intoxication, there would be\\nlittle sober reason left on earth.\\nCCCLI\\nIn this juggling house of life, friendship is a vain thing be wise\\nand trust none. Bear thy pains, seek no remedy, be cheerful in thy\\nsorrows, and seek not to share them with others.\\nCCCLH\\nO my King, how many a man like me in the rose-bower, in the\\nfair fellowship of dancers and drinkers, remains aloof, an onlooker\\nA garden, a wine-jar, and a lute are better than Paradise with its\\nstreams and houris.\\nCCCLIII\\nI saw a hermit in a desert place. He was neither heretic nor true\\neliever, he had neither riches, nor creed, nor God, nor truth, nor\\n[aw, nor knowledge. Where is the man of like courage in this\\nrorld or the other world\\nCCCLIV\\nWouldst thou have the world at thy feet, then strengthen- thy\\nsoul, and believe with me that wisdom lies in drinking wine and\\ndaffing the world aside.\\n9 129", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0175.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCCLV\\nIt is well to be of good reputation it is ill to complain of Heaven s\\ninjustice. It is better to be drunk with the blood of the vine than\\nswollen with sham piety.\\nCCCLVI\\nGive me to drink of that flower-coloured wine, O cupbearer pour,\\nfor my soul is laden with sorrow, O cup-bearer pour, I say, for in\\nsetting me free from myself, it sets me free also from the cares of\\nthis world, O cup-bearer.\\nccclvh\\nGive me delightful wine, O cup-bearer, that divine juice which,\\nlike a chain of linked rings, holds fools and sages in sweet servitude.\\nCCCLVIII\\nThis wheel of heaven seeks my destruction and thine, it plots\\nagainst my soul and thine. Come, seat thyself upon the grass, for\\nin a little while fresh grass will spring from this dust of mine and\\nthine.\\nCCCLIX\\nWe are all lovers, all bibbers, all worshippers of the vine, we are\\nall in the tavern free from thoughts of good and evil. Trouble not\\nour intelligence, for we are all drunk.\\nCCCLX\\nLast night in the tavern my familiar friend held out the cup and\\nbade me drink of it. I will not drink, I said, and he replied,\\nDrink for my love s sake.\\nCCCLXI\\nYesterday I sat by a stream with a beautiful girl and a vessel of\\nwine. Before me stood the shell whose pearl gave forth such light\\nthat the cock crew, believing it was dawn.\\n130", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0176.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCCLXII\\nDo not heed the speech of frivolous women, but seize the cup of\\nclear wine from the hands of the comely. All who ever trod this\\nearth have vanished one by one, and who can say that one has e er\\nreturned\\nCCCLXIII\\nWhen my soul and thine have flitted, they will place a couple of\\nbricks upon my grave and thine. Then to make bricks for other\\ntombs they will send to the kiln my dust and thine.\\nCCCLXIV\\nThat palace which touched the heavens, before whose door kings\\nbowed the head, we saw the ringdove on its battlements, resting and\\ncrying, Coo, coo, coo, coo\\nCCCLXV\\nTo drink and delight in fair faces is wiser than to affect a hypo-\\ncritical faith. If all the lovers, and all the joyous topers, go to hell,\\nnobody will want to go to Paradise. 2\\nICCCLXVI\\nWhat is the good of our entrance to, our exit from, this world\\nhat has become of all our hopes Where is the breath of all the\\nse and good who have been turned to dust\\ni\\ncccLXvn\\nWe drink wine old and new, we would sell the world for a brace of\\narley-corns. Do you know where you go after death Give me\\nsome wine and go where you please.\\nCCCLXVni\\nFlee from the lessons of learning and piety, turn to the tresses\\nround the lovely face, spill the blood of the vine in your cup before\\ntime spills thy blood on the earth.\\n1 See Quatrains Printed in Second Edition Only, xx.\\n2 See Quatrains Printed in Second Edition Only, lxv,\\n131", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0177.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYyAm\\nccclxix\\nThe strong wine of ourselves has exalted us with joy; we that\\nwere lowly, hold our heads high now we are free from the body s\\ndominion, we have returned to earth from whence we rose.\\nCCCLXX\\nA fig for mosques, prayers, fastings; hie thee to the tavern and\\nget drunk, even if thou hast to beg for it. Drink, my Khayyam,\\nfor soon that earth of thine will be fashioned into cups and bowls\\nand jars.\\nCCCLXXI\\nNot for one hour can I shake off the world, not for one moment\\ncan I buy content. Long, long have I served in the school of sorrow,\\nand still am master neither of this world nor the next.\\ncccLxxn\\nTo you this earthly cup is big with a soul, like to a jasmin bearing\\nblossoms of the Judas tree. Nay, the fair clearness of the wine\\ndeceives me, it is clear water big with liquid fire.\\nCCCLXXIII\\nThis world of dust from corner to corner, notwithstanding the\\nstudy of the Wise-Eyed, will see no better production of the faithless\\nearth than clear wine and lovely beings.\\nCCCLXXIV\\nHearken unto me, thou that hast not yet seen thy friends grow\\nold. Vex not thyself about the wheel of heaven, content thee with\\nwhat thou hast, and placidly behold life s juggles with the destinies\\nof men.\\nCCCLXXV\\nBe genial to the genial revellers, follow, my friend, the wisdom of\\nKhayyam. Away with prayers, away with fasts drink deep and be\\nkindly.\\n132", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0178.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCCLXXVI\\nAre you not ashamed, O Mullah, thus to ignore all the ordinances\\nand all the prohibitions Even if you heaped up all the treasures of\\nthe earth, what can you do with them at last, save leave them to\\nsome one else?\\nCCCLXXVH\\nDo not call to mind the day which has passed from you do not\\nlament for unborn to-morrow, do not build on the coming and the\\npast away, take the fair hour, and do not cast your life to the wind.\\nCCCLXXVIII\\nIf I, like God, were master of the heavens, I would blot them from\\nthe world, and fashion new skies beneath which free man might gain\\nhis heart s desire.\\nCCCLXXIX\\nEvery day at dawn, I will haste to the wine-house with the subtle\\nkalendars. O, Thou that hast the key to hidden secrets, give mc\\nfaith if Thou wouldst have me prayerful.\\nCCCLXXX\\nThanks to you, mirror-like disc of heaven, thanks to the favours of\\nthis fleeting time which fall but to the basest, my cheeks, hollow as\\ncups, are brimmed with tears, and my heart, like a jar, is full of\\nblood.\\nCCCLXXXI\\nThere is a bull in heaven named Parwin, there is another bull that\\nbears the earth open the eyes of knowledge and behold this drove\\nof asses placed between two bulls.\\nCCCLXXXII\\nLo, light, and wine, and plenilune, O cup-bearer; lo, the beauty\\nlovelier than the captain-jewel, O cup-bearer; talk not of earth unto\\nthis burning heart, cast it not to the wind bring drink, O cup-bearer.\\n133", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0179.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncccLxxxin\\nVainly you rave of ruby-tinted lips, vainly you whisper of the\\nsweetness of wine, and the melodies of lute and dulcimer. Be God\\nmy witness, that till you sever the ties of earth, your existence\\nis vain.\\nCCCLXXXIV\\nAll that thou sayest of me is steeped in hate, thou callest me un-\\nbeliever, atheist I am what I am, and make a vouch of it, but is it\\njust for thee to rail at me\\nCCCLXXXV\\nI can renounce all, but wine never. I can console myself for all\\nelse, but for wine never. Is it possible for me to become a good\\nmussulman, and to give up old wine? Never.\\nCCCLXXXVI\\nClear comely wine, I fain would drink so deep of thy divinity that\\nthose beholding me from afar should blend my being with thine and\\nsay, O Lord Wine, whence comest thou?\\nCCCLXXXVII\\nBefore you drain the cup of death, before the wheel of time has\\nhurled you back, get goods and gear while you are here, for in the\\nlower land, no welcome has the empty hand.\\nCCCLXXXVIII\\nDearest, while we tread this earth, lift the jar and drink its wine.\\nEre the potter turns to shape from thy dust and mine, other jars for\\nother lips, fill my cup and empty thine.\\nCCCLXXXIX\\nThy cup is brimmed with molten rubies, O cup-bearer; feed my\\nsoul with the flashes of that flaming stone, O cup-bearer, give to my\\nhands that holy bowl, O cup-bearer, that I might lend new being to\\nmy soul, O cup-bearer.\\n134", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0180.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\ncccxc\\nWhile still you boast of bones, and veins, and sinews, abide in the\\ncircle of your destiny. Yield nothing to your enemy, were he\\nRustem, son of Zal be under no bond of obligation to your friend,\\nwere he Hatim Tai.\\nCCCXCI\\nDo you desire a happy life, do you desire a heart devoid of care,\\nthen drink, drink, drink with every passing minute, and from each\\ndraught find new delight in life.\\ncccxcn\\nI have swept the threshold of the tavern with my hair, I have given\\nthe good-bye to thoughts of good and ill, of this world and the other.\\nWhen I am drunk, they might both roll into a ditch, without my\\nheeding them more than two barley-corns.\\nCCCXCIII\\nI passed into the potter s house of clay, and saw the craftsman\\nbusy at his wheel, turning out pots and jars fashioned from the heads\\nof kings, and the feet of beggars.\\nCCCXCIV\\nSince thou knowest the secrets, O youth, why so racked with des-\\npairing doubts Though the wheel of life does not turn to thy\\npleasure, still be merry in this hour, while still thou drawest breath.\\nCCCXCV\\nLast eve I broke against a stone an earthen cup, drunk in the\\ndoing of this foolish deed. Methought the cup protested unto me\\nI was like thee, thou wilt be like to me.\\nCCCXCVI\\nBear greeting from me to Khayyam and then say, Oh, inexperi-\\nenced Khayyam, when then have I said that wine is unlawful To\\nthe foolish it is unlawful, but to the wise it is lawful.\\n135", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0181.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCCXCVH\\nStill to me my breath, thanks to the cup-bearer, remains, but in\\nthe fellowship of created things, discontent remains. Of yestere en s\\nwine, only a flagon remains, but I know not how much of life yet\\nremains.\\ncccxcvni\\nWhen the hand possesses a loaf of wheaten bread, two measures\\nof wine, and a piece of flesh, when seated with tulip-cheeks in some\\nlonely spot, behold such joy as is not given to all sultans.\\nCCCXCIX\\nBe not rough with the pot-companions, be not gruff with the wise-\\nacres, but drink your wine, for whether you drink wine or no, if you\\nare seared with hell-fire, you shall not hope to pass into paradise.\\nCCCC\\nIn the assemblage of lovers we all are seated, from the labour of\\ndays we have all escaped, we have emptied the cup of the wine of\\nour desire, we are all free and tranquil and intoxicated.\\nCCCCI\\nThou hast broken my wine-jug, O Lord, Thou hast closed against\\nme the door of delight, O Lord, Thou hast spilt upon the earth my\\nclear wine earth be in my mouth unless Thou art drunk, O Lord.\\nccccn\\nA mouthful of wine is better than empire. Abjure all save wine.\\nOne cup of wine is better than the kingdom of Feridoun. The tile\\nwhich covers the mouth of the wine-jar is more precious than the\\ncrown of Kai-Khosrou.\\n136", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0182.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nccccin\\nLo, the season of roses is at hand, and then it delights me to defy\\nthe law of Alkoran with budding girls of tulip-cheeks for a measure\\nof five days my cups shall convert the green grass into beds of tulips.\\nccccrv\\nBear greeting from me to Mustapha, and then with all respect\\nenquire thus, Why, O Lord All-Wise, does Alkoran make the sour\\nsalted curds and water lawful, and pure wine unlawful\\nCCCCV\\nO thou that turnest day and night to lust after the world, dost thou\\nnot think upon the heavy day Look to thyself and to thy latest\\nbreath, and to the end that thou must share with others.\\nCCCCVI\\nWe made the mouth of a jar our place of prayer, the ruby wine\\nmade us seem truly men it is better to be in the street of the tavern,\\nthan to leave life to wither in the mosque.\\nCCCCVII\\nMake the conditions of this world easy unto my heart, and make\\nmy evil actions secret from creation. Give me to-day my pleasure,\\nand to-morrow inflict on me whatever Thy liberality deems meet.\\nCCCCVIII\\nNow that the brown bird tells his tale, his tale, think of red wine\\nin the hands of topers, topers. Arise, approach, for the rose ex-\\npands in gladness, for two or three days thy pains avenge, avenge.\\nCCCCIX\\nWe are the keys of the scheme of existence, we to wise eyes are\\nthe very essence of divinity. Is not the hoop of the world like unto a\\nring, and are not we the wrought gems thereof\\n137", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0183.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nccccx\\nIf I feed in famine-hunted Ramazan, it is not through forgetful-\\nness, but because the clinging fasts have changed my days to nights*\\nand deluded me into believing that I ate the morning meal.\\nCCCCXI\\nWhile I searched the pages of the Book of Love, a wise man\\nlifted up his voice and said, Happy is he who holds in his house a\\ngirl more lovely than the moon, and dreams of a night-time longer\\nthan a year.\\nCCCCXII\\nIf thou canst understand the circuit of this wheel, thou must per-\\nceive two kinds of men, those knowing good and evil, and those that\\nknow neither themselves nor aught else.\\nccccxni\\nO friend, abide tranquil in thy day, nor grieve for fleeting time in\\nvain, when the garb of life is rent, it matters little what thou hast\\ndone, what thou hast said, and in what way thou hast been stained.\\nCCCCXIV\\nWhenever on this green earth we are affected by joy, like unto\\nthe green steed of the sky, then with green youth I eat green hashish\\non the green sward until I lie below the green of the earth.\\nCCCCXV\\nO thou, the quintessence of the sum of existence, cease a moment\\nto think upon evil gain, take one cup of wine from the eternal Saki,\\nand set thyself free from the cares of both worlds.\\nCCCCXVI\\nArise, arise from thy place of sleep, O cup-bearer, give us, O give\\nus clear wine, O cup-bearer, ere yet the cups of our heads are made\\ninto flagons, pour from thy flagon into our cup, O cup-bearer.\\n138", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0184.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nccccxvn\\nTo the wise reader in the Book of Life, joy, sorrow, weal, and woe\\nare all alike. Since good and ill alike must have their end, it matters\\nlittle whether our portion be good or evil.\\nccccxvni\\nCease babbling of the Koran, cup-bearer, give me free quarters at\\nthe wine-house, O cup-bearer the night of those free quarters in the\\ninn shall be my night of nights, O cup-bearer.\\nCCCCXTX\\nKnow you why at the hour of the dawning the cock shrills his fre-\\nquent clarion It is but to remind you by the mirror of morning,\\nthat from your existence a night has slipped, and you are still\\nignorant.\\nccccxx\\nArt wise enough to learn in little the truth of man A miserable\\nbeing moulded from the mud of sorrow. A little while he eats upon\\nthis earth, then lifts his foot to wander hence.\\nCCCCXXI\\nNever with cheer a drop of water do we consume, but from the\\nhand of sorrow we consume wine. We never dip a bit of bread in\\nsalt, but we consume our own vitals.\\nccccxxn\\nLord, free me from this puzzle of the more and less. Absorb me\\nin Thee and free me from myself. While I can reason I know good\\nand evil intoxicate me and free me from knowledge of good and\\nevil.\\n139", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0185.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nccccxxm\\nOh Lord, have mercy on my captive heart, have mercy on my\\nsorrow-laden breast, have mercy on my tavern-turning foot, and on\\nmy hand that catches at the cup.\\nCCCCXXIV\\nI am what Thy power fashioned. I have lived a hundred years\\nrich in Thy gifts and grace. I would fain live yet one hundred years\\nof sin and see in the end if the sum of my faults or Thy pity be the\\ngreater.\\nCCCCXXV\\nSay, what man on earth has never sinned Say, who could live\\nand never sin If, therefore, because I do ill You punish me by ill,\\nsay, then, where is the difference between Thee and me\\nCCCCXXVI\\nJustice is the soul of the world, and the world is a body. The\\nangels are its senses, the skies its elements, humanity its limbs.\\nThis is the eternal unity, all else is delusion.\\nccccxxvn\\nThe cares of this world are not worth one barley-corn. We are\\nhappy. If we breakfast we do not dine. We are happy. Naught\\ncooked comes to us from the kitchen. We beseech no one. We are\\nhappy.\\nccccxxvm\\nMy poor heart, sympathetic and distraught, is deeply drowned in\\nthe love of my well-beloved. The day the wine of love was poured,\\nmy share was drawn from the blood of my heart.\\n140", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0186.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nccccxxix\\nThey bid me drink less wine, and wonder why I will not renounce.\\nWhy, because the face of my friend is the morning wine. Could\\nthere be a better reason?\\nCCCCXXX\\nO thou whose lip is wet with the water of life, do not let the lip of\\nthe cup come nigh. May I lose my name if I do not slake my ven-\\ngeance in the blood of the cup that dares to lay its lips to thine.\\nCCCCXXXI\\nTake cup and flagon in thy hands, beloved, let us hasten to the\\nfields and streams, for many maidens lovely as the moon have been\\nturned at last into cups and flagons.\\nccccxxxn\\nDo not riot in the tavern abide there without brawling. Sell your\\nturban, sell your Koran to buy wine, then hurry past the mosque\\nwithout going in.\\nCCCCXXXIII\\nNever wound with sorrow a joyous heart, nor break with the\\nstones of torment one moment of delight. Since none can say what\\nis to come, our needs are wine, a beloved, and desireful ease.\\nCCCCXXXIV\\nSome meditate of religions and beliefs, some sway bewildered\\nbetwixt doubt and knowledge. Suddenly the watcher cries, Fools,\\nyour road is not here nor there.\\nCCCCXXXV\\nWhere are ruby lips, jewels of youth Where is the scented\\nwine that soothes the soul It is forbidden by the Moslem creed.\\nDrink, for where is the Moslem creed\\n141", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0187.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCCCXXXVI\\nO evil-doer, never doing good, who seek shelter with Divinity,\\nbeware of trusting to be pardoned, for the nothing-doer resembles\\nnot the doer any more than the doer represents the nothing-doer.\\nCCCCXXXVII\\nBest to dwell in joy alone, best to take the cup from the fingers of\\nthe most fair, best the intoxication of the kalendars, best is wine of\\nall that lies between the moon and the earth.\\nCCCCXXXVIII\\nThe heaven is a bowl inverted over our heads. The wise are\\nshamed and feeble, but the cup and jar are fast friends. They are lip\\nto lip though blood flows between them.\\nCCCG2\\nThe drop of water sorrowed to be sundered from the ocean.\\nOcean smiling said, We are all in all, God is within and around us,\\nand we are divided but by an imperceptible point.\\nCCCCXL\\nOh, would that there were a place to rest, that by this road we\\nmight arrive; oh, that after a hundred thousand years we might\\narise anew from the heart of the earth like the green grasses.\\nCCCCXLI\\nWeep not for this bustling world, call for wine and for your dear,\\nfor that from which man dropped to-day, he seeks to enter again\\nto-morrow.\\nCCCCXLII\\nKnow thyself if thou art wise, and see what thou hast brought\\nwith thee, and what thou wilt take away. You will not drink for-\\nsooth because you must die. Why, whether you drink or no, you\\nmust die.\\n142", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0188.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nccccxLm\\nLet not the weight of the world oppress you, do not vex your soul\\nwith the thought of those who have passed away, yield not your\\nheart save to the fairest of the fair, never lack good wine nor cast\\nyour life to the wind.\\nCCCCXLIV\\nWhenever you can get two measures of wine, drink, where-ever\\nyou may be, for he who acts thus is free from thy scorn or my scorn.\\nCCCCXLV\\nThey bid you drink no wine under penalty of fiery pains on the\\nday of reckoning. Nevertheless, the moment in which wine makes\\nyou happy is better than the rewards of this world or the next.\\nCCCCXLVI\\nAlas, Fate will not let me live anigh thee, yet I cannot bear to live\\na hair s breadth apart from thee. I dare not share my woes with\\nanyone. Oh, hard lot, strange sorrow, fair passion.\\nCCCCXLVn\\nIf you delight in darkening the free heart, wear mourning for your\\nwits your whole life long, and be accursed for the fool you are.\\nccccxLvm\\nI would that God rebuilt the world anew, and that I might see the\\nwork begun. I would that God blotted my name from the roll of life,\\nor of His bounty made life seem more fair.\\nJ CCCCXLIX\\nGive me a flagon of red wine, a book of verses, a loaf of bread, and\\na little idleness. If with such store I might sit by thy dear side in\\nsome lonely place, I should deem myself happier than a king in his\\nkingdom.\\n143", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0189.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCCCL\\nWe trust in Divine Goodness which delivers us from sin and duty,\\nfor where Thy loving kindness is, he who does not, and he who does\\nare equal.\\nCOCCU\\nBe resigned to sorrow if you wish to escape it, do not complain of\\nyour hurts if you would have them healed. If you would fain taste\\nthe joys of riches, then thank Providence for your poverty.\\ncccciji\\nThe flowers are full in blossom, O cup-bearer; bring wine and\\nquit your prayers, O cup-bearer; ere yet death s angel rises up\\nagainst us, come cup in hand, and be happy awhile with the beloved,\\nO cup-bearer.\\nCCCCLIII\\nDrink wine, dear friend, and delight in your beloved, give smug\\nhypocrisy the go-by. Do you follow the law of Mahommed, then\\ntake a cup of wine from the bowl when Ali plays the cup-bearer.\\nCCCCLIV\\nIn the kitchen of life, you savour only the smoke. How long will\\nyou study in sorrow the problem of being and not being This world\\nis loss to those that cling to it. Cast it adrift, and lo the loss is\\ngain.\\nCCCCLV\\nOh, Thou whose essence is unknowable to mind, Thou who heed-\\nest neither our faults nor our virtues, I am drunk with sins, but my\\ntrust in Thee makes me sober, I count upon Thy clemency.\\n144", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0190.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "McCarthy version\\nCCCCLVT\\nThough we have no wish to vex men in their sleep, to shock the\\nnight with their despairing cries, still do not pride yourself either on\\nyour wealth or your comeliness, for a single night may sweep them\\nboth away.\\nCCCCLVn\\nIf from the first You made me know myself, why after would You\\nsunder me from myself? If from the first it was Your purpose to\\nabandon me, why did You fling me helpless into the middle of this\\nworld\\nCCCCLVIII\\nIf the ways of the world were but based on imitation, all days\\nwould be holidays. Were it not for those vain threatenings, every-\\none might live life to his own liking.\\nCCCCLIX\\nHeart, my heart, if you free yourself from earthly cares, you will\\nbecome pure soul and scale the skies. Then what a shame and\\nsorrow to have dwelt on earth\\nCCCCLX\\nO potter, have a care if you are wise, how long will you degrade\\nthe clay of man It is the finger of Feridoun, it is the hand of\\nKai-Khosrou, that you place upon the wheel. What are you\\nthinking of?\\nCCCCLXI\\nIf in this life you feasted full, what then Suppose the latest of\\nyour days has come, what then If you have lived a hundred happy\\nyears and have yet a hundred years to live, what then\\nio l 45", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0191.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "RUBXlYXT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nccccLxn\\nKnowest thou why the lily and the cypress have such fair renown\\nwith men? Because the one, with ten tongues, is silent; because\\nthe other with a hundred hands, keeps them from picking and\\nstealing.\\nCCCCLXIII\\nBehold in the zephyr the robe of the rose expanding, the night-\\ningale delighting in the beauty of the rose sit in the shade of the\\nrose, for many times this rose from earth has come and unto earth\\nhas gone.\\nCCCCLXIV\\nWoe s me for wasted life, for prohibited pleasures, and contam-\\ninated bodies. My face is blackened for not having done what Thou\\nhast ordered. How then if I had done what Thou hast not ordered\\nCCCCLXV\\nHow long shall I vex me with the have or have-not, with wonder-\\ning if I should or should not pass life pleasantly Nay, fill the cup,\\nmy cup-bearer, for in truth I know not if I shall breathe out the\\nbreath I now breathe in.\\nCCCCLXVI\\nIn this house of life, philosopher, drink red wine, so every atom of\\nthy dust which the wind yet shall carry, will fall steeped in wine, on\\nthe threshold of the tavern.\\nX46", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0192.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "The Quatrains of\\nOmar Khayyam\\nTranslated into English Verse by\\nE. H. WHINFIELD\\nSECOND EDITION, REVISED", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0193.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0194.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "On Reading the Rubaiyat of Omar\\nKhayyam in a Kentish Rose Garden\\njyESIDE a Dial in the leafy close,\\nAj Where every bush e was burning with the rose,\\nWith million roses falling flake by flake\\nUpon the lawn in fading summer snows:\\nI read the Persian Poet s rhyme of old,\\nEach thought a ruby in a ring of gold\\nOld thoughts so young, that, after all these years,\\nThey re writ on every rose-leaf yet unrolled.\\nYou may not know the secret tongue aright\\nThe Sunbeams on their rosy tablets write;\\nOnly a poet may perchance translate\\nThose ruby-tinted hieroglyphs of light*\\nSMATHILDE BLIND.\\n149", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0195.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0196.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "THE QUATRAINS OF\\nOMAR KHAYYAM\\nALIF\\n^T^ IS but a day we sojourn here below,\\nAnd all the gain we get is grief and woe,\\nAnd then, leaving life s riddles all unsolved,\\nAnd burdened with regrets, we have to go.\\nii\\nKhaja grant one request, and only one,\\nWish me God-speed, and get your preaching done\\nI walk aright, t is you who see awry\\nGo mend your sight, and leave Khayyam alone.\\nin\\nArise! and come, and of thy courtesy\\nRelieve my weary heart s perplexity,\\nAnd fill my goblet, so that I may drink,\\nOr ere they make their goblets out of me.\\n151", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0197.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nIV\\nWhen I am dead, with wine my body lave,\\nFor obit chant a bacchanalian stave,\\nAnd, if you need me at the day of doom,\\nBeneath the tavern threshold seek my grave.\\nv\\nSince no one can assure thee of the morrow,\\nRejoice thy heart to-day, and banish sorrow\\nWith moonbright wine, fair moon, for heaven s moon\\nWill look for us in vain on many a morrow.\\nVI\\nIn Allah s name, say, wherefore set the wise\\nTheir hearts upon this house of vanities?\\nWhene er they think to rest them from their toils,\\nDeath takes them by the hand, and says, Arise.\\nvn\\nMen say the Koran holds all heavenly lore,\\nBut on its pages seldom care to pore\\nThe lucid lines engraven on the bowl,\\nThat is the text they dwell on evermore.\\n152", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0198.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nVIII\\nBlame not the drunkards, you who wine eschew;\\nHad I but grace, I would abstain like you\\nAnd mark me, vaunting zealot, you commit\\nA hundredfold worse sins than drunkards do.\\nIX\\nWhat though t is fair to view, this form of man,\\nI know not why the Heavenly Artisan\\nHath set these tulip cheeks and cypress forms\\nTo deck the mournful halls of earth s divan.\\nBE\\nx\\nSo many cups of wine will I consume,\\nIts bouquet shall exhale from out my tomb,\\nAnd every one that passes by shall halt,\\nAnd reel and stagger with that mighty fume.\\n153", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0199.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXI\\nHere in this tavern haunt I make my lair,\\nPawning for wine, heart, soul, and all I wear,\\nWithout a hope of bliss or fear of bale,\\nRapt above water, earth, and fire, and air.\\nXII\\nQuoth fish to duck, T will be a sad affair\\nIf this brook leaves its channel dry and bare\\nTo whom the duck, When I am dead and roasted,\\nThe brook may mirage prove for aught I care.\\nTE\\nxm\\nFrom doubt to clear assurance is a breath,\\nA breath from infidelity to faith;\\nOh, precious breath enjoy it while you may,\\nTis all that life can give, and then comes death.\\n154", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0200.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nXIV\\nAh wheel of heaven, to tyranny inclined,\\nT was e er your wont to show yourself unkind\\nAnd, cruel earth, if they should cleave your breast,\\nWhat store of buried jewels they would find\\nxv\\nMy life lasts but a day or two, and fast\\nSweeps by, like torrent stream or desert blast,\\nHowbeit, of two days I take no heed,\\nThe day that s future, and the day that s past.\\nXVI\\nNow that with youth and joy my age is rife,\\nI quaff enchanting wine, and list to fife\\nChide not at wine for all its bitter taste,\\nIts bitterness sorts well with human life\\nxvn\\nO soul whose lot it is to bleed with pain,\\nAnd daily change of fortune to sustain,\\nInto this body wherefore didst thou come,\\nSeeing thou must so soon go forth again?\\n155", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0201.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nxvni\\nTo-day is thine to spend, but not to-morrow,\\nCounting on morrows breedeth naught but sorrow;\\nOh! squander not this breath that Heaven hath\\nlent thee,\\nNor make too sure another breath to borrow!\\nT is labour lost thus to all doors to crawl\\nTake thy good fortune, and thy bad withal\\nKnow for a surety each must play his game,\\nAs from the box of fate the dice may fall.\\nThis jug did once, like me, love s sorrows taste,\\nAnd bonds of beauty s tresses once embraced,\\nThis handle, which you see upon its side,\\nHas many a time twined round a slender waist!\\nXXI\\nDays changed to nights, ere you were born, or I\\nAnd on its business ever rolled the sky;\\nSee you tread gently on this dust, perchance\\nT was once the apple of some beauty s eye.\\n156", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0202.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nPagodas, just as mosques, are homes of prayer,\\nTis prayer that church-bells chime unto the air;\\nYea, Church and Ka ba, Rosary and Cross,\\nAre all but divers tongues of world-wide prayer.\\nXXIII\\nTwas writ at first, whatever was to be,\\nBy pen unheeding bliss or misery,\\nYea, writ upon the tablet once for all\\nTo murmur or resist is vanity.\\nxxrv\\nBehold these cups can He who deigned to make them,\\nIn wanton freak let ruin overtake them,\\nSo many shapely feet and hands and heads,\\nWhat love drives Him to make, what wrath to break\\nthem?\\nxxv\\nDeath s terrors spring from baseless phantasy,\\nDeath yields the tree of immortality;\\nSince Isa breathed new life into my soul,\\nEternal death has washed its hands of me!\\n157", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0203.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXXVI\\nFate will not bend to humour man s caprice,\\nSo vaunt not human powers, but hold your peace;\\nHere must we stay, weighed down with grief for\\nthis,\\nThat we were born so late, so soon decease.\\nXXVII\\nKhayyam why weep you that your life is bad\\nWhat boots it thus to mourn? Rather be glad.\\nHe that sins not can make no claim to mercy;\\nMercy was made for sinners be not sad.\\nxxvm\\nAll mortal ken is bounded by the veil,\\nTo see beyond man s sight is all too frail;\\nYea! earth s dark bosom is his only home;\\nAlas! twere long to tell the doleful tale.\\nIn synagogue and cloister, mosque and school,\\nHell s terrors and heaven s lures men s bosoms rule\\nBut they who master Allah s mysteries,\\nSow not this empty chaff their hearts to fool.", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0204.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nI dreamt a sage said, Wherefore life consume\\nIn sleep? Can sleep make pleasure s roses bloom?\\nForgather not with Death s twin-brother, Sleep\\nThou wilt have sleep enough within thy tomb!\\nYYYT\\nIf the heart knew life s secrets here below,\\nAt death twould know God s secrets too, I trow,\\nBut, if you know naught here, while still yourself,\\nTo-morrow, stripped of self, what can you know?\\nOn that dread day when wrath shall rend the sky,\\nAnd darkness dim the bright stars galaxy,\\nI 11 seize the Loved One by His skirt, and cry,\\nWhy hast Thou doomed these guiltless ones to die\\nxxxm\\nTo knaves Thy secret we must not confide,\\nTo comprehend it is to fools denied,\\nSee then to what hard case Thou doomest men,\\nOur hopes from one and all perforce we hide.\\n159", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0205.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nxxxrv\\nBring wine my heart with dancing spirits teems\\nWake fortune s waking is as fleeting dreams\\nQuicksilver-like our days are swift of foot,\\nAnd youthful fire subsides like torrent streams.\\nxxxv\\nMy law it is in pleasure s paths to stray,\\nMy creed to shun the theologic fray;\\nI wedded Luck, and offered her a dower,\\nShe said, I want none, so thy heart be gay.\\nxxxvi\\nFrom mosque an outcast, and to church a foe,\\nAllah of what clay didst thou form me so\\nLike sceptic monk or ugly courtesan,\\nNo hopes have I above, no joys below.\\nXXXVII\\nYon turf, fringing the margent of the stream,\\nAs down upon a cherub s lip might seem,\\nOr growth from dust of buried tulip cheeks;\\nTread not that turf with scorn or light esteem!\\n1 60", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0206.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nXXXVIII\\nHearts with the light of love illumined well,\\nWhether in mosque or synagogue they dwell,\\nHave their names written in the book of love,\\nUnvexed by hopes of heaven or fears of hell.\\nxxxix\\nIn drinking thus it is not my design\\nTo riot, or transgress the law divine,\\nNo to attain unconsciousness of self\\nIs the sole cause I drink me drunk with wine.\\nXL\\nDrunkards are doomed to hell, so men declare\\nBelieve it not, tis but a foolish scare;\\nHeaven will be empty as this hand of mine,\\nIf none who love good drink find entrance there. 1\\nXLI\\nWhat is the world A caravanserai,\\nA pied pavilion of night and day,\\nA feast whereat a thousand Jamsheds sat,\\nA couch whereon a thousand Bahrams lay.\\n1 See Quatrains Printed in Second Edition Only, lxv.\\nix j6i", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0207.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXLII\\nIn these proud halls, where Bahram once held sway,\\nThe wild roes drop their young and tigers stray\\nAnd that imperial hunter in his turn\\nTo the great hunter Death is fallen a prey.\\nXLHI\\nDown fall the tears from skies enwrapt in gloom,\\nWithout this drink the flowers could never bloom\\nAs now these flowers afford delight to me,\\nSo shall my dust yield flowers, God knows for whom.\\nXLIV\\nSome wine, a Houri maid for company,\\nA garden by a stream, with minstrelsy;\\nToil not to find a better Paradise,\\nIf other Paradise indeed there be\\nXLV\\nThy body is a tent, which for a space\\nDoth the pure soul with royal presence grace\\nWhen he departs, comes the tent-pitcher Death,\\nStrikes it, and moves to a new halting-place.\\n162", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0208.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nXLVI\\nKhayyam, who long time tents of science wrought,\\nWas burnt by trouble, and to ruin brought\\nFate s shears have cut his thread of life in twain,\\nAnd Death, the broker, sold him off for naught. 1\\nXL VII\\nIn the sweet spring a grassy bank I sought,\\nAnd thither wine and a fair Houri brought\\nAnd, though the people call me graceless dog,\\nGave not to Paradise another thought\\nXLvni\\nMake haste soon must you quit this life below,\\nAnd pass the veil, and Allah s secrets know;\\nMake haste to take your pleasure while you may,\\nYou wot not whence you come, nor whither go.\\nXLIX\\nTo chant wine s praises is my daily task,\\nI live encompassed by cup, bowl, and flask\\nZealot! if reason be thy guide, then know\\nThat guide of wine doth ofttimes guidance ask.\\n1 See FitzGerald Preface.\\n163", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0209.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nL\\nO men of morals why do ye defame\\nAnd thus misjudge me I am not to blame.\\nSave weakness for the grape and Houri s charms,\\nWhat sins of mine can any of ye name\\nLI\\nSkies like a zone our weary lives enclose,\\nAnd from our tear-stained eyes a Jihun flows\\nHell is a fire enkindled of our griefs\\nHeaven but a dream of respite from our woes.\\nLII\\nI drown in sin show me Thy clemency!\\nMy soul is dark make me Thy light to see\\nA heaven that must be earned by painful works\\nI call a wage, not a gift fair and free.\\nLin\\nDid He who made me fashion me for hell,\\nOr destine me for heaven I cannot tell.\\nYet will I not renounce cup, lute, and love,\\nNor earthly cash for heavenly credit sell.\\n164", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0210.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nLIV\\nThe good and evil with man s nature blent,\\nThe weal and woe that Heaven s decrees have sent,\\nImpute them not to motions of the skies,\\nSkies than thyself ten times more impotent.\\nLV\\nHe in whose bosom wisdom s seed is sown,\\nTo waste a single day is never known\\nEither he strives to work great Allah s will,\\nOr else exalts the cup, and works his own.\\nLVI\\nWhen Allah mixed my clay, He knew full well\\nMy future acts, and could each one foretell\\nNothing without His fiat can I do\\nIs it then just to punish me in hell\\nlvii\\nIf grace be grace and Allah gracious be,\\nAdam from Paradise why banished He\\nGrace to poor sinners shown is grace indeed\\nIn grace hard earned by works no grace I see.\\n165", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0211.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLVHI\\nDame Fortune s smiles are full of guile, beware\\nHer scimitar is sharp to smite, take care\\nIf e er she drop a sweetmeat in thy mouth,\\nTis poisonous, to swallow it forbear!\\nLIX\\nWhere er you see a rose or tulip bed,\\nKnow that a mighty monarch s blood was shed;\\nAnd where the violet rears her purple tuft,\\nBe sure a black-moled girl doth rest her head.\\nLX\\nWine is a melting ruby, cup its mine\\nCup is the body and the soul is wine\\nThese goblets smile with wine of ruddy hue,\\nLike tears, that blood of wounded hearts enshrine.\\nLXI\\nDrink wine long must you sleep within the tomb,\\nWithout a friend, or wife to cheer your gloom\\nHear what I say, and tell it not again,\\nNever again can withered tulips bloom.\\n1 66", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0212.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nLxn\\nThey preach how sweet those Houri brides will be,\\nBut I say wine is sweeter taste and see\\nHold fast this cash, and let that credit go,\\nAnd shun the din of empty drums like me.\\nT.XTTI\\nOnce and again my soul did me implore,\\nTo teach her, if I might, the heavenly lore\\nI bade her learn the cAlif well by heart.\\nWho knows that letter well need learn no more.\\nlxtv\\nI came not hither of my own free-will,\\nAnd go against my wish, a puppet still\\nCupbearer gird thy loins, and fetch some wine\\nTo purge the world s despite, my goblet fill.\\nLXV\\nSweet is the breath of spring to rose s face,\\nAnd thy sweet face adds charm to this fair place;\\nTo-day is sweet, but yesterday is sad,\\nAnd sad all mention of its parted grace.\\n167", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0213.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLXVI\\nTo-night pour wine, and sing a dulcet air,\\nAnd I upon thy lips will hang, O fair\\nYea, pour some wine as rosy as thy cheeks,\\nMy mind is troubled like thy ruffled hair.\\nLxvn\\nPen, tablet, heaven and hell I looked to see\\nAbove the skies from all eternity;\\nAt last the master-sage instructed me,\\nPen, tablet, heaven and hell are all in thee.\\nLxvin\\nThe fruit of certitude he cannot pluck,\\nThe path that leads thereto who never struck,\\nNor ever shook the bough with strenuous hand\\nTo-day is lost hope for to-morrow s luck.\\nLXIX\\nNow spring-tide showers its foison on the land,\\nAnd lively hearts wend forth, a joyous band,\\nFor Isa s 1 breath wakes the dead earth to life,\\nAnd trees gleam white with flowers, like Musa s 2 hand,\\n1 Jesus. 2 Moses.\\n168", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0214.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nLXX\\nAlas for that cold heart, which never glows\\nWith love, nor e er that charming madness knows\\nThe days misspent with no redeeming love\\nNo days are wasted half so much as those\\nLXXI\\nThe Master did himself these vessels frame,\\nWhy should he cast them out to scorn and shame\\nIf he has made them well, why should he break\\nthem?\\nYea, though he marred them, they are not to blame.\\nKHE\\nLXXII\\nWhen life is spent, what s Balkh or Nishapore\\nWhat sweet or bitter, when the cup runs o er?\\nCome drink full many a moon will wax and wane\\nIn times to come, when we are here no more.\\n169", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0215.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nDAL\\nLXXIII\\nLife s caravan is hastening on its way\\nBrood not on troubles of the coming day,\\nBut fill the wine-cup, ere sweet night be gone,\\nAnd snatch a pleasant moment, while you may.\\nlxxtv\\nHe, who the world s foundations erst did lay,\\nDoth bruise full many a bosom day by day,\\nAnd many a ruby lip and musky tress\\nDoth coffin in the earth, and shroud with clay.\\nLXXV\\nComrades I pray you, physic me with wine,\\nMake this wan amber face like rubies shine,\\nAnd, if I die, use wine to wash my corpse,\\nAnd frame my coffin out of planks of vine\\n170", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0216.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nLXXVI\\nWhen Allah yoked the coursers of the sun,\\nAnd launched the Pleiades their race to run,\\nMy lot was fixed in fate s high chancery\\nThen why blame me for wrong that fate has done\\nLXXVII\\nWhilom, ere youth s conceit had waned, methought\\nAnswers to all life s problems I had wrought;\\nBut now, grown old and wise, too late I see\\nMy life is spent, and all my lore is naught.\\nLXXVIII\\nHe brought me hither, and I felt surprise,\\nFrom life I gather but a dark surmise,\\nI go against my will thus, why I come,\\nWhy live, why go, are all dark mysteries.\\nLxxrx\\nThey at whose lore the whole world stands amazed,\\nWhose high thoughts, like Borak, to heaven are raised,\\nStrive to know Thee in vain, and like heaven s\\nwheel,\\nTheir heads are turning, and their brains are dazed.\\n171", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0217.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLXXX\\nThe sages who have compassed sea and land,\\nTheir secret to search out, and understand,\\nMy mind misgives me if they ever solve\\nThe scheme on which this universe is planned.\\nLXXXI\\nAh wealth takes wings, and leaves our hands all bare,\\nAnd death s rough hands delight our hearts to tear;\\nAnd from the nether world let none escape,\\nTo bring us tidings of the pilgrims there.\\nLXXXII\\nThe wheel on high, still busied with despite,\\nWill ne er unloose a wretch from his sad plight;\\nBut when it lights upon a smitten heart,\\nStraightway essays another blow to smite.\\nLXXXIII\\nNow is the volume of my youth outworn,\\nAnd all my spring-tide blossoms rent and torn.\\nAh, bird of youth I marked not when you came,\\nNor when you fled, and left me thus forlorn.\\n172", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0218.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nLxxxrv\\nThese fools, by dint of ignorance most crass,\\nThink they in wisdom all mankind surpass\\nAnd glibly do they damn as infidel\\nWhoever is not, like themselves, an ass.\\nLXXXV\\nTill the Friend pours his wine to glad my heart,\\nNo kisses to my face will heaven impart:\\nThey say, Repent in time but how repent,\\nEre Allah s grace hath softened my hard heart?\\nLXXXVI\\nWhen I am dead, take me and grind me small,\\nSo that I be a warning unto all,\\nAnd knead me into clay with wine, and then\\nUse me to stop the wine-jar s mouth withal.\\nLXXXVH\\nWhat though the sky with its blue canopy\\nDoth close us in so that we cannot see,\\nIn the etern Cupbearer s wine, methinks,\\nThere float a myriad bubbles like to me.\\n173", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0219.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLXXXVIII\\nNeeds must the tavern-haunter bathe in wine,\\nFor none can make a tarnished name to shine\\nGo bring me wine, for none can now restore\\nIts pristine sheen to this soiled robe of mine.\\nLXXXIX\\nLet him rejoice who has a loaf of bread,\\nA little nest wherein to lay his head,\\nIs slave to none, and no man slaves for him,\\nIn truth his lot is wondrous well bested.\\nxc\\nWhat adds my service to Thy majesty?\\nOr how can sin of mine dishonour Thee?\\nO pardon, then, and punish not, I know\\nThou rt slow to wrath, and prone to clemency.\\nxci\\nHands, such as mine, that handle bowls of wine,\\nTwere shame to book and pulpit to confine;\\nZealot thou rt dry, and I am moist with drink.\\nYea, far too moist to catch that fire of thine!\\n174", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0220.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nXCII\\nFor ever may my hands on wine be stayed,\\nAnd my heart pant for some fair Houri maid\\nThey say, May Allah aid thee to repent\\nRepent I could not, e en with Allah s aid\\nxcm\\nTo-day how sweetly breathes the temperate air,\\nThe rains have newly laved the parched parterre\\nAnd Bulbuls cry in notes of ecstasy,\\nThou too, O pallid rose, our wine must share.\\nxcrv\\nEre you succumb to shocks of mortal pain,\\nThe rosy grape-juice from your wine-cup drain.\\nYou are not gold, that, hidden in the earth,\\nYour friends should care to dig you up again\\nxcv\\nMy coming brought no profit to the sky,\\nNor does my going swell its majesty\\nComing and going put me to a stand,\\nEar never heard their wherefore nor their why.\\n175", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0221.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "RUBAlYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nXCVI\\nThe heavenly Sage, whose wit exceeds compare,\\nCounteth each vein, and numbereth every hair\\nMen you may cheat by hypocritic arts,\\nBut how cheat Him to whom all hearts are bare\\nXCVTI\\nAh wine lends wings to many a weary wight,\\nAnd beauty spots to ladies faces bright;\\nAll Ramazan I have not drunk a drop,\\nThrice welcome then, O Bairam s blessed night!\\nxcvm\\nTo prayer and fasting when my heart inclined,\\nAll my desire I surely hoped to find;\\nAlas my purity is stained with wine,\\nMy prayers are wasted like a breath of wind.\\nxcrx\\nWhy spend life in vainglorious essay\\nAll Being and Not-being to survey?\\nSince Death is ever pressing at your heels,\\nTis best to drink or dream your life away.\\n176", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0222.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nc\\nSome hanker after that vain phantasy\\nOf Houris, feigned in Paradise to be\\nBut, when the veil is lifted, they will find\\nHow far they are from Thee, how far from Thee\\nci\\nIn Paradise, they tell us, Houris dwell,\\nAnd fountains run with wine and oxymel\\nIf these be lawful in the world to come,\\nSurely t is right to love them here as well.\\nen\\nA draught of wine would make a mountain dance,\\nBase is the churl who looks at wine askance\\nWine is a soul our bodies to inspire,\\nA truce to this vain talk of temperance\\ncm\\nOft doth my soul her prisoned state bemoan,\\nHer earth-born comate she would fain disown,\\nAnd quit, did not the stirrup of the law\\nUpbear her foot from dashing on the stone.\\n12 177", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0223.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCIV\\nWhat sage the eternal tangle e er unravelled,\\nOr one short step beyond his nature travelled?\\nFrom pupils to the masters turn your eyes,\\nAnd see, each mother s son alike is gravelled.\\ncv\\nCrave not of worldly sweets to take your fill,\\nNor wait on turns of fortune, good or ill\\nBe of light heart, as are the skies above,\\nThey roll their destined rounds, and then lie still.\\ncvi\\nWhat eye can pierce the veil of God s decrees,\\nOr read the riddle of earth s destinies?\\nPondered have I for years threescore and ten,\\nBut still am baffled by these mysteries.\\ncvn\\nThey say, when the last trump shall sound its knell,\\nThe Friend will sternly judge, and doom to hell.\\nCan aught but good from perfect goodness come\\nCompose your trembling hearts, twill all be well.\\n178", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0224.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\ncvin\\nDrink wine to root up metaphysic weeds,\\nAnd tangle of the two-and-seventy creeds\\nDo not forswear that wondrous alchemy,\\nT will turn to gold, and cure a thousand needs.\\ncix\\nThough drink is wrong, take care with whom you\\ndrink,\\nAnd who you are that drink, and what you drink\\nAnd drink at will, for, these three points observed,\\nWho but the very wise can ever drink?\\nex\\nTo drain a gallon beaker I design,\\nYea, two great beakers, brimmed with richest wine\\nOld faith and reason thrice will I divorce,\\nThen take to wife the daughter of the vine.\\nCXI\\nTrue I drink wine, like every man of sense,\\nFor I know Allah will not take offence\\nBefore time was, He knew that I should drink,\\nAnd who am I to thwart His prescience\\n179", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0225.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCXII\\nWhen false dawn streaks the east with cold grey line,\\nPour in your cups the pure blood of the vine\\nThe truth, they say, tastes bitter in the mouth,\\nThis is a token that the Truth is wine.\\ncxni\\nNow is the time earth decks her greenest bowers,\\nAnd trees, like Musa s hand, grow white with flowers\\nAs t were at Isa s breath the plants revive,\\nWhile clouds brim o er, like tearful eyes, with showers.\\ncxrv\\nThe showers of grape-juice, which cupbearers pour,\\nQuench fires of grief in many a sad heart s core\\nPraise be to Allah, who hath sent this balm\\nTo heal sore hearts, and spirits health restore\\ncxv\\nCan alien Pharisees Thy kindness tell,\\nLike us, Thy intimates, who nigh Thee dwell?\\nThou say st, All sinners will I burn with fire.\\nSay that to strangers, we know Thee too well.\\n180", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0226.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCXVI\\nO comrades dear, when hither ye repair,\\nIn times to come, communion sweet to share,\\nWhile the cupbearer pours your old Magh wine,\\nCall poor Khayyam to mind, and breathe a prayer.\\nCXVII\\nFor me heaven s sphere no music ever made,\\nNor yet with soothing voice my fears allayed\\nIf e er I found brief respite from my woes,\\nBack to woe s thrall I was at once betrayed.\\ncxvni\\nSooner with half a loaf contented be,\\nAnd water from a broken crock, like me,\\nThan lord it over one poor fellow-man,\\nOr to another bow the vassal knee.\\ncxix\\nWhile Moon and Venus in the sky shall dwell,\\nNone shall see aught red grape-juice to excel\\nO foolish publicans, what can you buy\\nOne half so precious as the goods you sell?\\n181", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0227.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncxx\\nThey who endowed with wit and strength of brain,\\nAs Guiding Lights men s homage did obtain,\\nNot even they emerged from this dark night,\\nBut told their dreams, and fell asleep again.\\ncxxi\\nAt dawn, when dews bedeck the tulip s face,\\nAnd violets their heavy heads abase,\\nI love to see the roses folded buds,\\nWith petals closed against the winds disgrace.\\ncxxn\\nAh thou hast snared this head, though white as snow,\\nWhich oft has vowed the wine-cup to forego\\nAnd wrecked the mansion long resolve did build,\\nAnd rent the vesture penitence did sew\\nCXXIII\\nI am not one whom Death doth much dismay,\\nLife s terrors all Death s terrors far outweigh\\nThis life, that Heaven hath lent me for a while,\\nI will pay back, when it is time to pay.\\n182", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0228.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCXXIV\\nThe stars, who dwell on heaven s exalted stage,\\nBaffle the wise diviners of our age\\nTake heed, hold fast the rope of mother wit,\\nThese augurs all mistrust their own presage.\\ncxxv\\nSlaves of vain wisdom and philosophy,\\nWho toil at Being and Nonentity,\\nParching your brains till they are like dry grapes,\\nBe wise in time, and drink grape-juice, like me\\ncxxvi\\nSense, seeking happiness, bids us pursue\\nAll present joys, and present griefs eschew;\\nShe says, we are not like the meadow grass,\\nWhich, when they mow it down, springs up anew.\\nCXXVII\\nMy comrades all are gone Death, deadly foe,\\nHath caught them one by one, and trampled low\\nThey shared life s feast, and drank its wine with me,\\nBut lost their heads, and dropped a while ago.\\n183", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0229.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncxxvm\\nWhen the great Founder moulded me of old,\\nHe mixed much baser metal with my gold\\nBetter or fairer I can never be\\nThan when I issued from his heavenly mould.\\ncxxrx\\nThe joyous souls who quaff potations deep,\\nAnd saints who in the mosque sad vigils keep,\\nAre lost at sea alike, and find no shore,\\nOne only wakes, all others are asleep.\\ncxxx\\nSmall gains to learning on this earth accrue,\\nThey pluck life s fruitage, learning who eschew;\\nTake pattern by the fools who learning shun,\\nAnd then perchance shall fortune smile on you.\\nc:\\nComrades when e er ye meet together here,\\nRecall your friend to mind, and drop a tear;\\nAnd when the circling wine-cups reach his seat,\\nLet one be overturned his dust to cheer.\\n184", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0230.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\ncxxxn\\nMany have come, and run their eager race,\\nStriving for pleasures, luxuries, or place,\\nAnd quaffed their wine, and now all silent lie,\\nEnfolded in their parent earth s embrace.\\nRE\\ncxxxni\\nHeaven multiplies our sorrows day by day,\\nAnd grants no joys it does not take away\\nIf those unborn could know the ills we bear,\\nWhat think you, would they rather come or stay?\\ncxxxiv\\nWhy ponder thus the future to foresee,\\nAnd jade thy brain to vain perplexity?\\nCast off thy care, leave Allah s plans to him,\\nHe formed them all without consulting thee.\\n8 5", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0231.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncxxxv\\nThe tenants of the tombs to dust decay,\\nNescient of self, and all beside are they\\nTheir crumbling atoms float about the world,\\nLike mirage clouds, until the judgment-day.\\ncxxxvi\\nO soul lay up all earthly goods in store,\\nThy mead with pleasure s flowerets spangle o er\\nAnd know t is all as dew, that decks the flowers\\nFor one short night, and then is seen no more\\ncxxxvn\\nHeed not the Sunna, nor the law divine\\nIf to the poor his portion you assign,\\nAnd never injure one, nor yet abuse,\\nI guarantee you heaven, and now some wine\\nCXXXVIII\\nThe world is baffled in its search for Thee,\\nWealth cannot find Thee, no, nor poverty\\nAll speak of Thee, but none have ears to hear,\\nThou rt near to all, but none have eyes to see.\\n186", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0232.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCXXXIX\\nTake care you never hold a drinking bout\\nWith an ill-tempered, ill-conditioned lout\\nHe 11 make a vile disturbance all night long,\\nAnd vile apologies next day, no doubt.\\nCXL\\nThe starry aspects are not all benign\\nWhy toil then after vain desires, and pine\\nTo lade thyself with load of fortune s boons,\\nOnly to drop it with this life of thine\\nCXLI\\nI saw a busy potter by the way\\nKneading with might and main a lump of clay;\\nAnd, lo the clay cried, Use me tenderly,\\nI was a man myself but yesterday\\nCXLII\\nDeep in the rondure of the heavenly blue,\\nThere is a cup, concealed from mortals view,\\nWhich all must drink in turn O sigh not then,\\nBut drink it boldly, when it comes to you\\n187", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0233.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nZE\\nCXLHI\\nO heart this world is but a fleeting show,\\nWhy should its empty griefs distress thee so\\nBow down and bear thy fate, the eternal pen\\nWill not unwrite its roll for thee, I trow!\\nCXLIV\\nWho e er returned of all that went before,\\nTo tell of that long road they travel o er?\\nLeave naught undone of what you have to do,\\nFor when you go, you will return no more.\\nCXLV\\nIn taverns better far commune with Thee,\\nThan pray in mosques, and fail Thy face to see\\nO first and last of all Thy creatures Thou\\nT is Thine to burn, and Thine to cherish me\\n1 88", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0234.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCXLVI\\nI flew here, as a wandering bird in aim\\nUp to a higher nest my course to frame;\\nBut, finding here no guide who knows the way,\\nFly out by the same door where through I came.\\nCXLVII\\nHe binds us in resistless Nature s chain,\\nAnd yet bids us our natures to restrain\\nBetween these counter rules we stand perplexed,\\nHold the jar slant, but all the wine retain.\\nCXLVIII\\nThey go away, and none is seen returning,\\nTo teach that other world s recondite learning\\nT will not be shown for dull mechanic prayers,\\nFor prayer is naught without true heartfelt yearning.\\nCXLIX\\nGo to Cast dust on those deaf skies, who spurn\\nThy orisons and bootless prayers, and learn\\nTo quaff the cup, and hover round the fair;\\nOf all who go, did ever one return?\\n189", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0235.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "RUBXlYXT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCL\\nThough Khayyam strings no pearls of righteous deeds,\\nNor roots from out his soul sin s noisome weeds,\\nYet will he not despair of heavenly grace,\\nSeeing that one as two he ne er misreads.\\nCLI\\nWe are but chessmen, destined, it is plain,\\nThat great chess player, Heaven, to entertain;\\nIt moves us on life s chess-board to and fro,\\nAnd then in death s box shuts us up again.\\nCLII\\nI put my lips to the cup, for I did yearn\\nThe means of gaining length of days to learn\\nIt leaned its lip to mine, and whispered low,\\nDrink for, once gone, you never will return.\\n190", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0236.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nSIN\\nCLIII\\nAt Tus a bird perched in the ruined street\\nAnd on the skull of Kawus set his feet,\\nAnd thus he made his moan, Alas, poor king!\\nThy bells are hushed, thy drums have ceased to beat.\\nCLIV\\nWhat launched that golden orb his course to run,\\nWhat wrecks his firm foundations, when tis done,\\nNo man of science ever weighed with scales,\\nNor made assay with touchstone, no, not one!\\n191", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0237.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nSHIN\\nCLV\\nI pray thee to my counsel lend thine ear,\\nCast off this false hypocrisy s veneer\\nThis life a moment is, the next all time,\\nSell not eternity for earthly gear!\\nCLVI\\nKhayyam rejoice that wine you still can pour,\\nAnd still the charms of tulip cheeks adore\\nYou ll soon not be, rejoice then that you are,\\nThink how t would be in case you were no more\\nCLVII\\nOnce, in a potter s shop, a company\\nOf cups in converse did I chance to see,\\nAnd lo one lifted up his voice, and cried,\\nWho made, who sells, who buys this pottery\\n192", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0238.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCLVIII\\nAlthough the creeds number some seventy-three,\\nI hold with none but that of loving Thee\\nWhat matter faith, unfaith, obedience, sin\\nThou rt all we need, the rest is vanity.\\nCLIX\\nTell one by one my scanty virtues o er\\nAs for my sins, forgive them by the score\\nLet not my faults kindle Thy wrath to flame\\nBy blest Muhammad s tomb, forgive once more\\nCLX\\nThere is a chalice made with art profound,\\nWith tokens of the Maker s favour crowned\\nYet the great Potter takes his masterpiece,\\nAnd dashes it to pieces on the ground\\n13 193", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0239.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nFE\\nCLXI\\nIn truth wine is a spirit thin as air,\\nA limpid soul in the cup s earthen ware;\\nNo dull dense person shall be friend of mine\\nSave wine-cups, which are dense and also rare.\\nKAF\\nCLXH\\nO wheel of heaven no ties of bread you feel,\\nNo ties of salt, you flay me like an eel\\nA woman s wheel spins clothes for man and wife,\\nIt does more good than you, O heavenly wheel\\n194", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0240.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCLXIII\\nDid no fair rose my paradise adorn,\\nI would make shift to deck it with a thorn\\nAnd if I lacked my prayer-mats, beads, and Shaikh,\\nThose Christian bells and stoles I would not scorn.\\nCLXIV\\nIf heaven deny me peace and fame, I said,\\nLet it be open war and shame instead\\nThe man who scorns bright wine had best beware,\\nI ll arm me with a stone, and break his head!\\nCLXV\\nSee the dawn breaks, and rends night s canopy\\nArise and drain a morning draught with me\\nAway with gloom full many a dawn will break\\nLooking for us, and we not here to see\\n195", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0241.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nLAM\\nCLXVI\\nGive me my cup in hand, and sing a glee\\nIn concert with the bulbuls symphony;\\nWine would not gurgle as it leaves the flask,\\nIf drinking mute were right for thee and me\\nCLXVII\\nThe Truth will not be shown to lofty thought,\\nNor yet with lavished gold may it be bought;\\nTill self be mortified for fifty years,\\nFrom words to states of heart you ll not be\\nbrought.\\nCLXVIII\\nI solved all problems, down from Saturn s wreath\\nUnto this lowly sphere of earth beneath,\\nAnd leapt out free from bonds of fraud and lies,\\nYea, every knot was loosed, save that of death\\n196", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0242.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCLXIX\\nPeace! the eternal Has been and To be\\nPass man s experience, and man s theory;\\nIn joyful seasons naught can vie with wine,\\nTo all these riddles wine supplies the key!\\nMIM\\nCLXX\\nAllah, our Lord, is merciful, though just\\nSinner despair not, but His mercy trust\\nFor though to-day you perish in your sins,\\nTo-morrow He 11 absolve your crumbling dust.\\nCLXXI\\nYour course annoys me, O ye wheeling skies\\nUnloose me from your chain of tyrannies\\nIf none but fools your favours may enjoy,\\nThen favour me, I am not very wise\\n197", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0243.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCLXXII\\nWhen Khayyam quittance at Death s hand receives,\\nAnd sheds his outworn life, as trees their leaves,\\nFull gladly will he sift this world away,\\nEre dustmen sift his ashes in their sieves.\\nCLXXIII\\nThis wheel of heaven, which makes us all afraid,\\nI liken to a lamp s revolving shade,\\nThe sun the candlestick, the earth the shade,\\nAnd men the trembling forms thereon portrayed.\\nCLXXIV\\nWho was it that did mix my clay? Not I.\\nWho spun my web of silk and wool Not I.\\nWho wrote upon my forehead all my good,\\nAnd all my evil deeds In truth not I.\\nCLXXV\\nO let us not forecast to-morrow s fears,\\nBut count to-day as gain, my brave compeers\\nTo-morrow we shall quit this inn, and march\\nWith comrades who have marched seven thousand\\nyears.\\n198", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0244.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCLXXVI\\nNe er for one moment leave your cup unused\\nWine keeps heart, faith, and reason too, amused;\\nHad Iblis swallowed but a single drop,\\nTo worship Adam he had ne er refused\\nCLXXVII\\nAh by these heavens, that ever circling run,\\nAnd by my own base lusts I am undone,\\nWithout the wit to abandon worldly hopes,\\nAnd wanting sense the world s allures to shun\\nCLxxvm\\nOn earth s green carpet many sleepers lie,\\nAnd hid beneath it others I descry\\nAnd others, not yet come, or passed away,\\nPeople the desert of Nonentity!\\nclxxix\\nSure of Thy grace, for sins why need I fear?\\nHow can the pilgrim faint whilst Thou art near?\\nOn the last day Thy grace will wash me white,\\nAnd make my black record to disappear.\\n199", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0245.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCLXXX\\nThink not I dread from out the world to hie,\\nAnd see my disembodied spirit fly\\nI tremble not at death, for death is true,\\nT is my ill life that makes me fear to die!\\nCLXXXI\\nLet us shake off dull reason s incubus,\\nOur tale of days or years cease to discuss,\\nAnd take our jugs, and plenish them with wine,\\nOr ere grim potters make their jugs of us\\nCLXXXII\\nHow much more wilt thou chide, O raw divine,\\nFor that I drink, and am a libertine\\nThou hast thy weary beads, and saintly show,\\nLeave me my cheerful sweetheart, and my wine\\nCLXXXIII\\nAgainst my lusts I ever war, in vain,\\nI think of my ill deeds with shame and pain;\\nI trust Thou wilt assoil me of my sins,\\nBut even so, my shame must still remain.\\n200", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0246.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nclxxxiv\\nIn these twin compasses, O Love, you see\\nOne body with two heads, like you and me,\\nWhich wander round one centre, circlewise,\\nBut at the last in that one point agree.\\ncrxxxv\\nWe shall not stay here long, but while we do,\\nT is folly wine and sweethearts to eschew\\nWhy ask if earth etern or transient be\\nSince you must go, it matters not to you.\\nCLXXXVI\\nIn reverent sort to mosque I wend my way,\\nBut, by great Allah, it is not to pray\\nNo but to steal a prayer-mat When t is worn,\\nI go again, another to purvey.\\nCLXXXVII\\nThe world is false, so I 11 be false as well,\\nAnd with bright wine, and gladness ever dwell\\nThey say, May Allah grant thee penitence\\nHe grants it not, and did he, I d rebel\\n201", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0247.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCLXxxvni\\nWhen death shall tread me down and pluck me bare,\\nLike some fat capon, or poor chanticlere\\nThen mould me to a cup, and fill with wine\\nIts perfume will revive me then and there.\\nCLXXXIX\\nSo far as this world s dealings I have traced,\\nI find its favours shamefully misplaced;\\nAllah be praised I see myself debarred\\nFrom all its boons, and wrongfully disgraced.\\ncxc\\nTis dawn! my heart with wine I will recruit,\\nAnd dash to bits the glass of good repute\\nMy long-extending hopes I will renounce,\\nAnd grasp long tresses, and the charming lute.\\ncxci\\nThough I had sinned the sins of all mankind,\\nI know Thou would st to mercy be inclined\\nThou sayest, I will help in time of need:\\nOne needier than me where wilt Thou find\\n202", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0248.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\ncxcn\\nAm I a wine-bibber What if I am\\nGiaour, or infidel Suppose I am\\nEach sect miscalls me, but I heed them not,\\nI am my own, and, what I am, I am.\\ncxcm\\nAll my life long to drink I have not ceased,\\nAnd drink I will to-night on Kader s feast;\\nAnd throw my arms about the wine-jar s neck,\\nAnd kiss its lip, and clasp it to my breast!\\ncxciv\\nI know what is, and what is not, I know\\nThe lore of things above, and things below,\\nBut all this lore will cheerfully renounce,\\nIf one a higher lore than drink can show.\\ncxcv\\nThough I drink wine, I am no libertine,\\nNor am I grasping, save of cups of wine\\nI scruple to adore myself, like you\\nFor this cause to wine-worship I incline.\\n203", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0249.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCXCVI\\nWe make the wine-jar s lip our place of prayer,\\nAnd drink in lessons of true manhood there,\\nAnd pass our lives in taverns, if perchance\\nThe time misspent in mosques we may repair.\\ncxcvn\\nMan is the whole creation s summary,\\nThe precious apple of great wisdom s eye;\\nThe circle of existence is a ring,\\nWhereof the signet is humanity.\\nCXCVIII\\nWith fancies, as with wine, our heads we turn,\\nAspire to heaven, and earth s low trammels spurn\\nBut, when we drop this fleshly clog, t is seen\\nFrom dust we came, and back to dust return.\\ncxcix\\nI never drank of joy s sweet cordial,\\nBut grief s fell hand infused a drop of gall\\nNor dipped my bread in pleasure s piquant salt,\\nBut briny sorrow made me smart withal\\n204", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0250.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\ncc\\nAt dawn to tavern haunts I wend my way,\\nAnd with distraught Kalendars pass the day;\\nThou! who know st things secret, and things\\nknown,\\nGrant me Thy grace, that I may learn to pray\\ncci\\nNever from worldly toils have I been free,\\nNever for one short moment glad to be\\n1 served a long apprenticeship to fate,\\nBut yet of fortune gained no mastery.\\necu\\nOne hand with Koran, one with wine-cup dight,\\nI half incline to wrong, and half to right;\\nThe azure-marbled sky looks down on me\\nA sorry Moslem, yet not heathen quite.\\nCCIII\\nMy critics call me a philosopher,\\nBut Allah knows full well they greatly err\\nI know not even what I am, much less\\nWhy on this earth I am a sojourner!\\n205", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0251.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nccrv\\nQuoth rose, I am the Yusuf flower, I swear,\\nFor in my mouth rich golden gems I bear:\\nI said, Show me another proof. Quoth she\\nBehold this blood-stained vesture that I wear\\nccrv\\nI studied with the masters long ago,\\nAnd long ago did master all they know\\nHear now the end and issue of it all,\\nFrom earth I came, and like the wind I go\\nccvi\\nTo find great Jamshed s world-reflecting bowl\\nI compassed sea and land, and viewed the whole\\nBut, when I asked the wary sage, I learned\\nThat bowl was my own body, and my soul\\ngcvti\\nMe, cruel Queen you ever captivate,\\nFrom valiant knight to puny pawn translate\\nAnd marshal all your force and ply your arts,\\nTo take my castles, and myself checkmate\\n206", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0252.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCCVIII\\nIf Allah wills me not to will aright,\\nHow can I frame my will to will aright\\nEach single act I will must needs be wrong,\\nSince none but He can make me will aright.\\nccix\\nEndure this world without my wine I cannot\\nDrag on life s load without my cups I cannot!\\nI am the slave of that sweet moment, when\\nThey say, Take one more goblet, and I cannot!\\nNUN\\nccx\\nMake light to me the world s oppressive weight,\\nAnd hide my failings from the people s hate,\\nAnd grant me peace to-day, and on the morrow\\nDeal with me as Thy mercy may dictate\\n207", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0253.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCXI\\nSouls that are well informed of this world s state,\\nIts weal and woe with equal mind await,\\nFor, be it weal we meet, or be it woe,\\nThe weal doth pass, and woe too hath its date.\\nCCXII\\nLament not fortune s want of constancy,\\nBut up and seize her favours ere they flee\\nIf fortune always cleaved to other men,\\nHow could a turn of luck have come to thee?\\nCCXIII\\nChief of old friends hearken to what I say,\\nLet not heaven s treacherous wheel your heart\\ndismay\\nBut rest contented in your humble nook,\\nAnd watch the games that wheel is wont to play.\\nccxiv\\nHear now Khayyam s advice, and bear in mind,\\nConsort with revellers, though they be maligned,\\nCast down the gates of abstinence and prayer,\\nYea, drink, and even rob, but, aye be kind\\n208", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0254.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nccxv\\nHave you no shame for all the sins you do,\\nSins of omission and commission too\\nSuppose you gain the world, you can but leave it,\\nYou cannot carry it away with you\\nccxvi\\nSome look for truth in creeds, and forms, and rules\\nSome grope for doubts or dogmas in the schools\\nBut from behind the veil a voice proclaims,\\nYour road lies neither here nor there, O fools.\\nccxvn\\nHad I the power great Allah to advise,\\nI d bid him sweep away this earth and skies,\\nAnd build a better, where, unclogged and free,\\nThe clear soul might achieve her high emprise.\\nccxvm\\nTo drain the cup, to hover round the fair,\\nCan hypocritic arts with these compare\\nIf all who love and drink are going wrong,\\nThere s many a wight of heaven may well despair I\\n14 209", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0255.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCXIX\\nT is well in reputation to abide,\\nT is shameful against heaven to rail and chide\\nStill, head had better ache with over drink,\\nThan be puffed up with Pharisaic pride!\\nccxx\\nO Lord from self-conceit deliver me,\\nSever from self, and occupy with Thee\\nThis self is captive to earth s good and ill,\\nMake me beside myself, and set me free\\nccxxi\\nSince all man s business in this world of woe\\nIs sorrow s pangs to feel, and grief to know,\\nHappy are they that never come at all,\\nAnd they that, having come, are first to go\\nccxxn\\nNor you nor I can read the etern decree,\\nTo that enigma we can find no key;\\nThey talk of you and me behind the veil,\\nBut, sweep that veil away, and where are we\\n210", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0256.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nWAW\\nCCXXIII\\nO Love, for ever doth heaven s wheel design\\nTo take away thy precious life, and mine\\nSit we upon this turf, twill not be long\\nEre turf shall grow upon my dust, and thine\\nccxxiv\\nYon palace, towering to the welkin blue,\\nWhere kings did bow them down, and homage do,\\nI saw a ringdove on its arches perched,\\nAnd thus she made complaint, Coo Coo, Coo, Coo\\nccxxv\\nWe come and go, but for the gain, where is it?\\nAnd spin life s woof, but for the warp, where is it?\\nAnd many a righteous man has burned to dust\\nNeath heaven s blue rondure, but their smoke, where\\nis it?\\n211", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0257.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "RUBAlYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCXXVI\\nSuch as I am, Thy power created me,\\nThy care hath kept me for a century\\nThrough all these years I make experiment,\\nIf my sins or Thy mercy greater be.\\nccxxvn\\nTake up thy cup and goblet, Love, I said,\\nHaunt purling river bank, and grassy glade\\nFull many a moon-like form has heaven s wheel\\nOft into cup, oft into goblet, made\\nccxxvm\\nWe buy new wine and old, our cups to fill,\\nAnd sell for two grains this world s good and ill;\\nKnow you where you will go to after death?\\nSet wine before me, and go where you will\\nCCXXIX\\nWas e er man born who never went astray?\\nDid ever mortal pass a sinless day?\\nIf I do ill, do not requite with ill\\nEvil for evil how canst Thou repay?\\n212", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0258.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCC2\\nMan, like a ball, hither and thither goes,\\nAs fate s resistless bat directs the blows\\nBut He, who gives thee up to this rude sport,\\nHe knows what drives thee, yea, He knows, He\\nknows\\nccxxxi\\nLet not base avarice enslave thy mind,\\nNor vain ambition in its trammels bind\\nBe sharp as fire, as running water swift,\\nNot like earth s dust, the sport of every wind\\nHE\\nccxxxn\\nO Thou who hast done ill, and ill alone,\\nAnd thinkest to find mercy at the throne,\\nHope not for mercy for good left undone\\nCannot be done, nor evil done undone\\n213", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0259.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nccxxxni\\nThese heavens, methinks, are like an o erturned cup,\\nWhereto the wise with awe keep gazing up\\nSo o er his love, the cup, the bottle stoops,\\nFeigning to kiss, and gives her blood to sup I\\nccxxxrv\\nThe drop wept for his severance from the sea,\\nBut the sea smiled, for I am all, said he,\\nThe Truth is all in all, there s naught beside,\\nThat one point circling apes plurality.\\nccxxxv\\nBulbuls, doting on roses, oft complain\\nHow froward breezes rend their veils in twain;\\nSit we beneath this rose, which many a time\\nHas dropped to earth, and sprung from earth again.\\nccxxxvi\\nAlas my wasted life has gone to wrack\\nWhat with forbidden meats, and lusts, alack\\nAnd leaving undone what twas right to do,\\nAnd doing wrong, my face is very black\\n214", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0260.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nI could repent of all, but of wine, never!\\nI could dispense with all, but with wine, never\\nIf so be I became a Musulman,\\nCould I abjure my Magian wine? no, never!\\nCCXXXVIII\\nWe rest our hopes on Thy free grace alone,\\nNor seek by merits for our sins to atone\\nMercy drops where it lists, and estimates\\n111 done as undone, good undone as done.\\nccxxxix\\nO unenlightened race of humankind,\\nYe are a nothing, built on empty wind\\nYea, a mere nothing, hovering in the abyss,\\nA void before you, and a void behind!\\nCCXL\\nVain study of philosophy eschew\\nRather let tangled curls attract your view\\nAnd shed the bottle s life-blood in your cup,\\nOr e er death shed your blood, and feast on you.\\n2i5", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0261.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nYE\\nCCXLI\\nO Heart! canst thou the darksome riddle read,\\nWhere wisest men have failed, wilt thou succeed?\\nQuaff wine, and make thy heaven here below,\\nWho knows if heaven above will be thy meed?\\nCCXLII\\nThey that have passed away, and gone before,\\nSleep in delusion s dust for evermore\\nGo, boy, and fetch some wine, this is the truth,\\nTheir dogmas were but air, and wind their lore\\nCCXLIII\\nWith many a snare Thou dost beset my way,\\nAnd threatenest, if I fall therein, to slay\\nThy rule resistless sways the world, yet Thou\\nImputest sin, when I do but obey\\n216", "height": "3439", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0262.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCCXLIV\\nTo Thee, whose essence baffles human thought,\\nOur sins and righteous deeds alike seem naught\\nMay Thy grace sober me, though drunk with sins,\\nAnd pardon all the ill that I have wrought\\nCCXLV\\nO soul could you but doff this flesh and bone,\\nYou d soar a sprite about the heavenly throne\\nHad you no shame to leave your starry home,\\nAnd dwell an alien on this earthy zone\\nCCXLVI\\nAh, potter, stay thine hand with ruthless art\\nPut not to such base use man s mortal part\\nSee, thou art mangling on thy cruel wheel\\nFaridun s fingers, and Kai Khosrau s heart!\\nccxLvn\\nFrom this world s kitchen toil not to obtain\\nThose dainties, seeming real, but really vain,\\nWhich greedy worldlings gorge to their own loss\\nRenounce that loss, so loss shall prove thy gain!\\n217", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0263.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nccxlvhi\\nAh would there were a place of rest from pain,\\nWhich we, poor pilgrims, might at last attain,\\nAnd after many thousand wintry years,\\nRenew our life, like flowers, and bloom again\\nCCXLIX\\nWinter is past, and spring-tide has begun,\\nSoon will the pages of life s book be done\\nWell saith the sage, Life is a poison rank,\\nAnd antidote, save grape-juice, there is none.\\nCCL\\nLast night I dashed my cup against a stone,\\nIn a mad drunken freak, as I must own,\\nAnd lo the cup cried out in agony,\\nYou too, like me, shall soon be overthrown.\\nCCLI\\nOpen the door O entrance who procurest,\\nAnd guide the way, O Thou of guides the surest\\nDirectors born of men shall not direct me,\\nTheir counsel comes to naught, but Thou endurest!\\n218", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0264.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCCLII\\nGive me a skin of wine, a crust of bread,\\nA pittance bare, a book of verse to read;\\nWith thee, O love, to share my lowly roof,\\nI would not take the Sultan s realm instead!\\nCCLIII\\nBehold, where er we turn our ravished eyes,\\nSweet verdure springs, and crystal Kausars rise\\nAnd plains, once bare as hell, now smile as heaven:\\nEnjoy this heaven with maids of Paradise!\\nCCLIV\\nWhen dawn doth silver the dark firmament,\\nWhy shrills the bird of dawning his lament?\\nIt is to show in dawn s bright looking-glass\\nHow of thy careless life a night is spent.\\nCCLV\\nCupbearer, come from thy full-throated ewer\\nPour blood-red wine, the world s despite to cure!\\nWhere can I find another friend like wine,\\nSo genuine, so solacing, so pure?\\n219", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0265.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCCLVI\\nIt chanced into a potter s shop I strayed,\\nHe turned his wheel and deftly plied his trade,\\nAnd out of monarchs heads, and beggars feet,\\nFair heads and handles for his pitchers made!\\nCCLVII\\nWho framed the lots of quick and dead but Thou?\\nWho turns the troublous wheel of heaven but Thou;\\nThough we are sinful slaves, is it for Thee\\nTo blame us? Who created us but Thou?\\nCCLVIII\\nA Shaikh beheld a harlot, and quoth he,\\nYou seem a slave to drink and lechery\\nAnd she made answer, What I seem I am,\\nBut, Master, are you all you seem to be?\\nCCLIX\\nIf, like a ball, earth to my house were borne,\\nWhen drunk, I d rate it at a barley-corn\\nLast night they offered me in pawn for wine,\\nBut the rude vintner laughed that pledge to scorn.\\n220", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0266.jp2"}, "265": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCCLX\\nNow in thick clouds Thy face Thou dost immerse,\\nAnd now display it in this universe;\\nThou the spectator, Thou the spectacle,\\nSole to Thyself Thy glories dost rehearse.\\nCCLXI\\nBetter to make one soul rejoice with glee,\\nThan plant a desert with a colony;\\nRather one freeman bind with chains of love,\\nThan set a thousand prisoned captives free\\nCCLXII\\nWherever you can get two maunds of wine,\\nSet to, and drink it like a libertine\\nWhoso acts thus will set his spirit free\\nFrom saintly airs like yours, and grief like mine.\\nCCLXIII\\nYes here am I with wine and feres again\\nI did repent, but ah t was all in vain\\nPreach not to me of Noah and his flood,\\nBut pour a flood of wine to drown my pain\\n221", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0267.jp2"}, "266": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\ncclxiv\\nAngel of joyful foot! the dawn is nigh;\\nPour wine, and lift thy tuneful voice on high,\\nSing how Jamsheds and Khosraus bit the dust,\\nWhelmed by the rolling months, from Tir to Dai\\nCCLXV\\nOh that great Allah would rebuild these skies,\\nAnd earth, and that at once, before my eyes,\\nAnd either rase my name from off his roll,\\nOr else relieve my dire necessities\\nCCLXVI\\nAh brand, ah burning brand, foredoomed to burn\\nIn fires of dread Gehennom in thy turn,\\nPresume not to teach Allah clemency,\\nFor who art thou to teach, or he to learn?\\nCCLXVII\\nI never would have come, had I been asked,\\nI would as lief not go, if I were asked,\\nAnd, to be short, I would annihilate\\nAll coming, being, going, were I asked\\n222", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0268.jp2"}, "267": {"fulltext": "WHINFIELD VERSION\\nCCLXVIII\\nA potter at his work I chanced to see,\\nPounding some earth and shreds of pottery\\nI looked with eyes of insight, and methought\\nTwas Adam s dust with which he made so free!\\nCCLXIX\\nNo longer hug your grief and vain despair,\\nBut in this unjust world be just and fair\\nAnd since the substance of the world is naught,\\nThink you are naught, and so shake off dull care\\n223", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0269.jp2"}, "268": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0270.jp2"}, "269": {"fulltext": "APPENDIX\\nCOMPARATIVE STANZAS\\nof the FITZGERALD, MCCARTHY\\nAND WHINFIELD VERSIONS\\nAlso A BIBLIOGRAPHY of the\\nForeign and English Translations\\n15 225", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0271.jp2"}, "270": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0272.jp2"}, "271": {"fulltext": "COMPARATIVE STANZAS\\nof/kFlTzGERALD, MCCARTHY\\nAND WHINFIELD VERSIONS\\ncxin\\nIxix\\nlxxii\\nFitzGerald McCarthy Whinfield\\ni Wake For the Sun, who scatter d into\\nflight\\nii Before the phantom of False morning\\ndied, clxxxiii\\niii And, as the Cock crew, those who stood\\nbefore ccccxix\\niv Now the New Year reviving old Desires xci\\nv Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,\\nvi And David s lips are lockt but in divine ccxlvii\\nvii Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of\\nSpring clxvii\\nviii Whether at Naishapur or Babylon, cxlviii\\nix Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you\\nsay; cccclxiii\\nx Well, let it take them! What have we\\nto do cccxc\\nxi With me along the strip of Herbage\\nstrown clxxvii\\nxii A Book of Verses underneath the Bough i cccxcvlu\\n(ccccxlix\\nxiii Some for the Glories of This World and\\na (cclxvii\\nsome\\n(cccxiv\\nxiv Look to the blowing Rose about us\\nLo, cciv\\nxv And those who husbanded the Golden\\ngrain, cclxxvii xciv\\nxvi The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts\\nupon cxxxvi\\nxvii Think, in this batter d Caravanserai cxl xli\\nxviii They say the Lion and the Lizard keep cli xlii\\nxix I sometimes think that never blows so\\nred lix\\n227\\nxlvii\\ncclii\\nlxii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0273.jp2"}, "272": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nFitzGerald McCarthy\\nxx And this reviving Herb whose tender\\nGreen cxxiii\\nxxi Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears cxciv\\nxxii For some we loved, the loveliest and the\\nbest\\nxxiii And we, that now make merry in the\\nRoom clvi\\nxxiv Ah, make the most of what we yet may\\nspend, ccclviii\\nxxv Alike for those who for TO- DAY prepare ccccxxxiv\\nxxvi Why, all the Saints and Sages who dis-\\ncuss d cclii\\nxxvii Myself when young did eagerly frequent xl\\nxxviii With them the seed of Wisdom did I\\nsow\\nxxix Into this Universe, and Why not know-\\ning li\\nxxx What, without asking, hither hurried\\nWhence clxxxviii\\nxxxi Up from Earth s Centre through the\\nSeventh Gate\\nxxxii There was the Door to which I found no\\nKey; ii\\nxxxiii Earth could not answer nor the Seas\\nthat mourn\\nxxxiv Then of the THEE IN ME who works be-\\nhind ccxxvi\\nxxxv Then to the lip of this poor earthen\\nUrn cccxlv\\nxxxvi I think the Vessel, that with fugitive lxxiii\\nxxxvii For I remember stopping by the way ccxlv\\nxxxviii And has not such a Story from of Old cclxx\\nxxxix And not a drop that from our Cups we\\nthrow clxx\\n228\\nWhinfield\\nxxxvii\\nclxxv\\ncxxxii\\ncxxvii\\nxliii\\nccxxiii\\nccxvi\\nlxxix\\nccxlii\\ncxlvi\\nlxiv\\nIxxviii\\nclxviii\\ncxxxvin\\nclii\\nxx\\ncxli\\ncclxviii\\ncxiv", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0274.jp2"}, "273": {"fulltext": "COMPARATIVE STANZAS\\nFitzGerald McCarthy Whinfield\\nxl As then the Tulip for her morning sup cii\\nxli Perplext no more with Human or^ xiv\\nDivine jlxxvii cxc\\n\\\\CClxxxni\\nxlii And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you\\npress, lxxxv 1\\nxliii So when that Angel of the darker\\nDrink cxlii\\nxliv Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust\\naside, cccclxix ccxlv\\nxlv Tis but a Tent where takes his one\\nday s rest clxix xlv\\nxlvi And fear not lest Existence closing\\nyour ccxxxv lxxxvii\\nxlvii When You and I behind the Veil are\\npast, ccx\\nxlviii A Moment s Halt a momentary\\ntaste clxv lxxiii\\nxlix Would you that spangle of Existence\\nspend xlvi xiii\\n1 A Hair perhaps divides the False and\\nTrue; xiii\\nli Whose secret Presence, through Crea-\\ntion s veins\\nlii A moment guess d then back behind\\nthe Fold cccxlvi cclx\\nliii But if in vain, down on the stubborn\\nfloor lxix xxxi\\nliv Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain\\npursuit (cclxxvi_ xdx\\ncccxxvin\\nIv You know, my Friends, with what a\\nbrave Carouse xx ex\\nlvi For IS and Is-NOT though with\\nRule and Line eclxxvi xcix\\n1 See Variants of Stanza xlii for closer parallels.\\n22g", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0275.jp2"}, "274": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAt OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nFitzGerald McCarthy Whinfield\\nlvii Ah, but my Computations, People say xvii\\nlviii And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, ccclx\\nlix The Grape that can with Logic absolute cclxxxix cviii\\nlx The mighty Mahmud, Allah-breathing\\nLord,\\nlxi Why, be this Juice the growth of God,\\nwho dare lxxxiv cxlvii\\nlxii I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must cclxvii\\nlxiii Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Para-\\ndise lxi\\nlxiv Strange, is it not? that of the myriads, Jxxxi cxliy\\nwho iclx cxlviii\\nlxv The Revelations of Devout and Learn d cxx\\nlxvi I sent my Soul through the Invisible, lxvii\\nlxvii Heav n but the Vision of fulfill d Desire, xcviii li\\nlxviii We are no other than a moving row ccxxx clxxiii\\nlxix But helpless Pieces of the Game He\\nplays lxi cli\\nlxx The Ball no question makes of Ayes\\nand Noes, ccxxx\\nlxxi The Moving Finger writes and, having,\\nwrit ilxxxvi xxiii\\nlxxii And that inverted Bowl they call tne jj v\\ny (ccccxxxviii ccxxxiii\\nlxxiii With Earth s first Clay They did the\\nLast Man knead, lxxxvi xxiii\\nlxxiv Yesterday This Day s Madness did\\nprepare clxxx xlviii\\nlxxv I tell you this When, started from the\\nGoal, ccxix lxxvi\\nlxxvi The Vine had struck a fibre which\\nabout\\nlxxvii And this I know whether the one True\\nLight lxxxvii cxlv\\n230", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0276.jp2"}, "275": {"fulltext": "COMPARATIVE STANZAS\\nFitzGerald McCarthy\\nIxxviii What out of senseless Nothing to pro-\\nvoke cxii\\nlxxix What! from His helpless Creature be\\nrepaid clxxxix\\nlxxx Oh Thou, who didst with pitfall and\\nwith gin ccxcvi\\nlxxxi Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth\\ndidst make,\\nlxxxii As under cover of departing Day cccxciii\\nlxxxiii Shapes of all Sorts and Sizes, great,\\ns fcxv\\nand small,\\ncccxciii\\nlxxxiv Said one among them Surely not in\\nvain ccclxiii\\nIxxxv Then said a second Ne er a peevish\\nBoy c\\nlxxxvi After a momentary silence spake cccxliv\\nIxxxvii Whereat some one of the loquacious\\nLot cxv\\nlxxxviii Why, said another, Some there are\\nwho tell cclxxxi\\nlxxxix Well, murmur d one, Let whoso\\nmake or buy, cxxv\\nxc So while the Vessels one by one were\\nspeaking\\nxci Ah, with the Grape my fading Life,\\nprovide, vm\\nxcii That ev n my buried Ashes such a 1V\\nsnare xxvii\\nxciii Indeed the Idols I have loved so long cclxxxvii\\nxciv Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before c lv\\nxcv And much as Wine has play d the X\\nInfidel,\\nxcvi Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with\\nthe Rose ccxxiii\\n23I\\nWhinfield\\nlvi\\nccxliii\\ncclvi\\ncclvi\\nxxiv\\ncclvii\\nlxxi\\nclvii\\nclxxxviii\\nIV\\nIxxv\\nx\\nlxxxviii\\ncxxn\\nlxxxiii", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0277.jp2"}, "276": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nFitzGerald McCarthy Whinfield\\nxcvii Would but the Desert of the Fountain\\nyield ccccxl ccxlviii\\nxcviii Would but some wing6d Angel ere too\\nlate ccccxlviii cclxv\\nxcix Ah Love could you and I with Him\\nconspire ccclxxviii ccxvii\\nc Yon rising Moon that looks for us,.\\na S ain Ixlvii\\nci And when like her, oh Saki, you shall\\nJ CXVl\\npass civ\\nr CXXXl\\n232", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0278.jp2"}, "277": {"fulltext": "BIBLIOGRAPHY of the\\nRUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nFOREIGN TRANSLATIONS.\\nThomas Hyde, D.D. Veterum Persarum et Parthorum et\\nMedorum Religionis Historia. Oxford. 1700. Contains one Latin\\nquatrain.\\nJ. Von Hammer- Purgstall. Geschichte der schonen Redekunste\\nPersiens. Vienna. 1818. 25 quatrains.\\nGarcin de Tassy. Note sur les Ruba iyat de Omar Khaiyam.\\nParis. 1857. 10 quatrains in prose.\\nJ. B. Nicolas. Les Quatrains de Kheyam, Traduits du Persan.\\nParis. 1867. 464 quatrains, with notes.\\nBe la Harrach. Keleti Gyongybk, Egy Cynikus Persa Kolto,\\nOmer Chejjam. 1 Budapest. No date. 130 pp. Follows order of\\nNicolas.\\nAdolph Friedrich Grafen von Schack. Strophen des Omar Chi-\\njam. Stuttgart. 1878. 336 quatrains.\\nFriedrich Bodenstedt. Die Lieder und Spriiche des Omar\\nChajjam. Breslau. 1881. 467 quatrains.\\nItalo Pizzi. Storia della Poesia Persiana. Turin. 1894. 63\\nquatrains.\\nVittorio Rugarli. Omar Khayyam. Dieci Quartine, Tradotte\\ndal Persiano. Bologna. 1895.\\nVittorio Rugarli. Dodici Quartine, Omar Khayyam. Tradotte dal\\nPersiano. Bologna. 1895. 12 quatrains, translated from Nicolas.\\nHerbert Wilson Greene, M.A., B.C.L. Rubaiyat of Omar Khay-\\nyam. Translated into Latin Verse. Oxford. 1893. Privately\\nprinted by Nathan Haskell Dole. Boston. 1898.\\n1 Eastern Pearls, by the Persian Cynic poet, Omar Khayyam.\\n233", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0279.jp2"}, "278": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nENGLISH TRANSLATIONS.\\nEDWARD FITZGERALD S VERSIONS.\\nFIRST EDITION.\\nRubSiyat of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia.\\nTranslated into English Verse. London: Bernard Quaritch,\\nCastle Street, Leicester Square. 1859.\\nOn the verso G. Norman, Printer, Maiden Lane, Covent Garden,\\nLondon.\\nSmall quarto. Brown paper wrappers. 75 quatrains. 22 notes.\\nThe Same, privately reprinted at Madras, 1862, together with a note\\nby Garcin de Tassy and an article by Prof. E. B. Cowell, with a few\\nadditional quatrains.\\nThe Same, a type fac-simile of the first edition, privately printed by\\nThomas J. Wise in the Ashley Library Series. London. 1887.\\nQuarto. 25 copies on Dutch paper and 4 on vellum.\\nSECOND EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia.\\nRendered into English Verse. Second Edition. London\\nBernard Quaritch, Piccadilly. 1868.\\n(John Childs and Sons, Printers.) Quarto. Paper wrappers,\\nno quatrains. 25 notes.\\nTHIRD EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia,\\nRendered into English Verse. Third Edition. London Ber-\\nnard Quaritch, Piccadilly. 1872.\\nQuarto, half Roxburghe, maroon cloth. 101 quatrains.\\nFOURTH EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam and the Salaman and Absal of\\nJ ami; Rendered into English Verse Bernard Quaritch 15 Picca-\\ndilly, London, 1879.\\nFcap. 4to, half Roxburghe. 101 quatrains.\\n234", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0280.jp2"}, "279": {"fulltext": "BIBLIOGRAPHY\\nFIFTH EDITION.\\nLetters and Literary Remains of Edward FitzGerald Edited\\nby William Aldis Wright in Three Volumes. London Mac-\\nmillan and Co. and New York. i88g. All Rights reserved.\\nCrown 8vo. Text in volume 3. 101 quatrains.\\nThe Same, reprinted separately, London Macmillan and Co., and\\nNew York. 1890. Fifth Edition with variations of the preceding\\neditions.\\nPIRATED EDITION.\\nOmar Khayyam. The Rubaiyat Translated into English Verse.\\nLondon. John Campbell, Jun. 1883.\\n(Printed for Henry Quilter and his friends. The first leaf bears\\nthe inscription To the Translator, with the Printer s thanks and\\napologies.\\nASHENDENE EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam of Naishapur, the Astronomer-Poet\\nof Persia. Rendered into English Verse. C. H. St. John Hornby.\\nAshendene Press, 1896.\\nSmall quarto. 50 copies for private circulation only.\\nMACDOUGALL EDITION.\\nThe Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia.\\nRendered into English Verse by Edward FitzGerald. Decorated by\\nW. B. Macdougall. London Macmillan and Co. Ltd. New York\\nThe Macmillan Co. 1898.\\nQuarto. Text of First Edition without translators Introduction\\nor Notes. Border decorations by Octave Lacour. Edition de luxe,\\nlimited to 1000 copies.\\nGOLDEN TREASURY EDITION.\\nText of the Fifth Edition. London: Macmillan and Co., Ltd.,\\nNew York: The Macmillan Co. i8gg.\\nSq. i6mo.\\n235", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0281.jp2"}, "280": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nFOUR-TEXT EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer- Poet of Persia.\\nRendered into English Verse by Edward FitzGerald. Texts of the\\nFour Editions with the Original Prefaces and Notes. London\\nMacmillan and Co. 1899.\\nExtra Crown 8vo. Vellum bds.\\nAMERICAN EDITIONS OF FITZGERALD S\\nTRANSLATION.\\nFIRST AMERICAN.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia.\\nRendered into English Verse. First American From the Third\\nLondon Edition Boston: James R. Osgood and Company, Late\\nTicknor Fields, and Fields, Osgood Company. 1878.\\nSq. i6mo.\\n(The 26th Edition, Houghton, Mifflin Co. 1896.)\\nVEDDER EDITION.\\nThe Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia.\\nRendered into English Verse by Edward FitzGerald, with an\\nAccompaniment of Drawings by Elihu Vedder. Houghton, Mifflin\\nCo. Boston. 1884.\\nThe Same, Edition de luxe, 1884.\\nThe Same, Phototype Edition, reduced plates. 1886.\\nThe Same, Popular Edition, with introduction by M. K. 1894.\\nGROLIER CLUB EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia.\\nRendered into English Verse by Edward FitzGerald. The Grolier\\nClub of New York. 1885. Reprinted From the Edition of Bernard\\nQuaritch, London, 1879.\\nMedium 8vo. 150 copies on Japan paper. 2 on Vellum.\\n236", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0282.jp2"}, "281": {"fulltext": "BIBLIOGRAPHY\\nMEMORIAL EDITION.\\nWorks of Edward FitzGerald, Translator of Omar Khayyam, Re-\\nprinted From the Original Impressions, with some corrections\\nderived from his own annotated copies. In two volumes. New York\\nand Boston Houghton, Mifflin Co. London Bernard Quaritch.\\n1887.\\n8vo. A few large paper copies, royal 8vo.\\nCOMPARATIVE EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of First and Fourth editions, with introduction and\\nnotes by M. K. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin Co. 1888.\\nSAN FRANCISCO EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. San Francisco 1891.\\ni2mo, pamphlet, green paper wrappers.\\nSTODDARD PRIVATE EDITION.\\nSelections From The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Privately\\nprinted for John L. Stoddard, Boston, 1893.\\n100 copies, 8vo.\\nMOSHER BIBELOT EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Printed for Thomas B. Mosher and\\npublished by Him, Portland, Maine, 1894.\\nNarrow Fcap. 8vo. 725 copies on Van Gelder paper and 25 copies\\non Japan vellum. (Out of print.)\\nMOSHER OLD WORLD EDITION.\\nText of First, Second, and Fourth Editions, with sonnet by\\nRosamund Mariott Watson toast by Theodore Watts biography\\nof FitzGerald by W. Irving Way, etc.\\nNarrow Fcap. 8vo. 925 copies; 100 on Japan vellum, 1895.\\nBRADLEY EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Published for Will Bradley by R. H.\\nRussell, New York, 1896.\\nSq. i2mo, bds.\\n237", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0283.jp2"}, "282": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nST. PAUL EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Printed for E. W. Porter Co., St.\\nPaul, Minn. 1895.\\nSq. i2mo, bds. 750 numbered copies on hand-made paper.\\nThe Same, on imitation hand-made paper. 1897.\\nCROWELL EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam and the Salaman and Absal of J ami,\\nRendered into English Verse by Edward FitzGerald. New York and\\nBoston. 1896.\\nSq. i2mo. Text of First and Fifth editions, with variations and\\nnotes.\\nVARIORUM EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, English, French and German trans-\\nlations, comparatively arranged in accordance with the text of\\nEdward FitzGerald s version. With biographies, bibliography,\\netc. Edited by Nathan Haskell Dole. In Two Volumes. Joseph\\nKnight and Co. Boston. 1896.\\nMULTI-VARIORUM EDITION.\\nThe Same, with Italian and Dutch translations added and with\\nfuller annotations, bibliography, etc. Two volumes L. C. Page and\\nCo., Boston. 1897.\\nDODGE EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. San Francisco. 1896.\\nSq. i2mo. Paper wrappers.\\nSame. De luxe edition.\\nSame* New edition, 1898.\\nSame. With poem by Edmund Gosse and Side-lights by Edw.\\nHeron-Allen. New York, i8gg.\\nSq. i6mo.\\nCOATES EDITION.\\nThe Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Edited by Talcott Williams,\\nPhiladelphia. H. T. Coates Co. 1898.\\nSq. i2mo.\\n238", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0284.jp2"}, "283": {"fulltext": "BIBLIOGRAPHY\\nLARK CLASSICS EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, First and Fourth Editions. Wm.\\nDoxey. At the Sign of the Lark. San Francisco. 1898.\\nSq. i6mo.\\nROBERTSON PAMPHLET EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. San Francisco. 1898.\\nFcap. quarto.\\nTHE THREE-TEXT EDITION.\\nFirst, Second and Fifth Editions Edited by Nathan Haskell Dole.\\nIllustrated by Gilbert James and Edmund H. Garrett. Boston, L. C.\\nPage Co. 1898.\\ni2mo, cloth.\\nTHE McMANUS EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Being a Reprint of FitzGerald s\\nFourth English Translation. With page decorations from original\\ndesigns by Blanche McManus.\\nIntroduction and Notes omitted. New York, 1898.\\nFcap. 4to, bds.\\nDEPARTMENT STORE EDITION.\\nText of the Fourth Edition, without Introduction or Notes. Bos-\\nton, 1898.\\nSq. i6mo, cloth.\\nROYCROFT EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam: Being the FitzGerald Version of\\n1879. The Roycroft Shop, East Aurora, New York, 1898.\\nNine hundred and ten copies hand illumined, with a few additional\\ncopies specially illumined.\\nTHE TRUTH SEEKER EDITION.\\nText of Fourth Edition, with foot-notes and an original intro-\\nduction. New York, 1898.\\nSq. i2mo. Pamphlet.\\n239", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0285.jp2"}, "284": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nCRITIC EDITION.\\nReprint of text of the Fourth Edition, from the Critic of Decem-\\nber, 1898. New York, 1898.\\nSq. i6mo. Pamphlet.\\nLOS ANGELES EDITION.\\nEdward Fitz Gerald s Omar Khayyam with a Prose Translation\\nfrom the French of J. B. Nicolas, and an Introduction by James B.\\nScott. Los Angeles, C. C. Parker, 1899.\\nText of Fourth Edition. Narrow i6mo, paper bds. 500 copies.\\nVEST POCKET EDITION.\\nEdward FitzGerald. Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam with Preface\\n(and a Pronouncing Vocabulary) by Nathan Haskell Dole. Portland,\\nMaine. Thomas B. Mosher, 1899.\\nNarrow i6mo.\\nPRIVATELY PRINTED EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam Portland, Maine. Privately\\nPrinted 1899.\\nQuarto. Unpaged. Full vellum. Silk ties.\\nText of the Fourth, with minor variants of the Fifth edition.\\nT. B. M. E. B. G. Portland, Maine. May, 1899.\\nTen copies and no more, printed on pure vellum.\\nMANSFIELD EDITION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Text of Fourth Edition, with an\\nAddress by Hon. H. H. Asquith. New York, Mansfield. 1899.\\n32mo. Leather. 500 copies.\\nTHE VADEMECUM EDITION.\\nText of Fourth Edition without FitzGerald s name. Philadelphia,\\nAltemus. (1899.)\\ni6mo, cloth.\\nMASTERPIECES EDITION.\\nText of Fourth Edition, with half-tone illustrations by George\\nTobin. F. A. Stokes Co., New York. {1899.)\\ni8mo, red cloth.\\n240", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0286.jp2"}, "285": {"fulltext": "BIBLIOGRAPHY\\nGROSSET EDITION.\\nText of Fourth Edition, New York. A. Grosset Co. (i8gg.)\\nNarrow 121110. Green wrapper and envelope.\\nThe Same, i2mo, cloth, with decorative borders by C. D. Farrand\\nand half-tone illustrations by Gilbert James. 1899.\\nBROWN EDITION.\\nThe Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Rendered into English Verse\\nby Edward FitzGerald. Edited with an Introduction and Notes by\\nWilliam Augustus Brown. Edition de luxe, limited to 300 copies.\\nBoston Houghton, Mifflin and Co. 1900. Text of the Second Edi-\\ntion, with additional quatrains from the First Edition, and variants\\nof the Third and Fourth.\\nLATER ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS.\\nE. H. WHINFIELD.\\nQuatrains of Omar Khayyam, Translated Into English Verse by\\nE. H. Whinfield, M.A. Late of the Bengal Civil Service. London:\\nTriibner and Co. 1882.\\n8vo. 253 quatrains.\\nSecond Edition: Persian Text with English Verse Translation.\\n1883.\\n8vo. 500 quatrains.\\nThird Edition [Second Edition revised], 1893. 267 quatrains.\\nP. WHALLEY.\\nNine Metrical Translations from the Quatrains of Umar Khay-\\nyam by P. Whalley, C.S. Muradabad. The Journal of the Asiatic\\nSociety of Bengal. 1877.\\nWHITELY STOKES.\\nEighteen Quatrains from Omar Khayyam. The Academy, Jan.\\n17, 1885.\\n16 241", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0287.jp2"}, "286": {"fulltext": "RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM\\nH. G. KEENE.\\nStanzas From Omar Khayyam, Rendered Into English Verse by\\nH. G. Keene. Macmillan s Magazine, November, 1887.\\nANONYMOUS VERSION.\\nThe Dialogue of the Gulshan-i-Raz or Mystical Garden of\\nRoses of Mahmoud Shabistari With Selections from The\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. London Trubner Co., Ludgate\\nHill. 1887.\\n8vo. Includes 22 Rubaiyat.\\nLOUISA S. COSTELLO\\nThe Rose Garden of Persia, by Louisa Stuart Costello. London\\nGeorge Bell and Sons. 1887. 66-76 pp. devoted to Omar Khayyam,\\nwith paraphrases from his work.\\nMICHAEL KERNEY\\nTranslation in the original metre of fifty of the Rubaiyat of\\nOmar Khayyam.\\nIncluded in the Houghton, Mifflin Co. edition of 1888. Edited\\nby M. K.\\nJOHN LESLIE GARNER\\nThe Strophes of Omar Khayyam, Translated by John Leslie\\nGarner. With an Introduction and Notes. Milwaukee The Corbitt\\nand Skidmore Co. 1888.\\nSq. i2mo. 142 quatrains.\\nSecond Edition, Henry T. Coates Co. Philadelphia. i8g8.\\nThe Same: George Bell and Sons, London. 1898.\\nMCCARTHY S PROSE VERSION.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Translated by Justin Huntly\\nMcCarthy, M.P. Published by David Nutt, in the Strand. 1889.\\nFcap. bds.\\nMOSHER REPRINT.\\nThe Same, Thomas B. Mosher, Portland, Maine. 1896.\\nThe Same, revised edition, London, 1898. i2mo, cloth.\\n242", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0288.jp2"}, "287": {"fulltext": "BIBLIOGRAPHY\\nRICHARD LE GALLIENNE PARAPHRASE.\\nRubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, A Paraphrase From Several Literal\\nTranslations, by Richard Le Gallienne. London Grant Richards,\\n1897.\\nNarrow 8vo.\\nThe Same. New York: John Lane, 1897. Octavo, bds. 1250 copies\\nnumbered and signed by the author also 50 copies on Japan vellum.\\nSelections from this paraphrase were published in the Cosmopol-\\nitan (New York), for July and August, 1897.\\nF. YORK POWELL.\\nTwenty-four Quatrains from Omar. Printed in the Pageant,\\nLondon, 1897.\\nOctavo, cloth. Pp. 106-108.\\nJOHN PAYNE.\\nThe Quatrains of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia,\\nNow first completely done into English verse in the original forms.\\n(845 quatrains). The Villon Society, London, 1898.\\nOctavo, vellum. 675 numbered copies on hand-made paper, and\\n75 large paper copies.\\nEDWARD HERON-ALLEN.\\nThe II Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam Being a Facsimile of the\\nManuscript in the Bodleian Library at Oxford, with a transcript\\ninto modern Persian characters, and a bibliography, by Edward\\nHeron-Allen. London, H. S. Nichols, Ltd. 1898.\\nRoyal octavo. White leather.\\n1000 small paper copies, 20 large paper copies, and 2 copies on\\nvellum.\\nThe Same, including Some Side-lights upon Edward Fitz Gerald s\\nPoem.\\nSecond edition, revised and enlarged. Boston: L. C. Page Co.\\n1893.\\nRoyal octavo. White leather.\\nThe Same, with Introduction by Nathan Haskell Dole. London\\nand Boston H. S. Nichols, Ltd. 1898.\\n243", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0289.jp2"}, "288": {"fulltext": "rubXiyAt of omar khayyAm\\nJESSIE E. CADELL.\\nThe Ruba yat of Omar Kha yam A New Translation in Verse.\\nWith an Introduction by Richard Garnett. London and New York\\nJohn Lane, 1899.\\ni2mo, cloth.\\nELIZABETH ALDEN CURTIS.\\nOne Hundred Quatrains From the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.\\nA Rendering in English Verse by Elizabeth Alden Curtis. With an\\nIntroduction by Richard Burton. Gouverneur, New York. Brothers\\nof the Book. 1899.\\ni2mo. 600 copies on hand-made paper.\\nCHARLES PEREZ MURPHY.\\n49 Stanzas paraphrased from Mrs. CadelPs version. National\\nMagazine, Boston, Dec, 1899.\\n244", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0290.jp2"}, "289": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0291.jp2"}, "290": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0292.jp2"}, "291": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3321", "width": "2245", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0293.jp2"}, "292": {"fulltext": "", "height": "3766", "width": "2574", "jp2-path": "rubiytofomark00omar_0294.jp2"}}