""How sweet is mortal Sovranty!"—think some: Others — "How blest the Paradise to come!" Ah, take the Cash in hand and wave the Rest; Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!"

"There was a Door to which I found no Key: There was a Veil past which I could not see: Some little Talk awhile of and There seemed — and then no more of and ."

"There was the Door to which I found no Key; There was the Veil through which I might not see: Some little talk awhile of and There was — and then no more of and ."

"Then of the works behind The Veil, I lifted up my hands to find A Lamp amid the Darkness; and I heard, As from Without — "!""

"Then to the lip of this poor earthen Urn I lean'd, the Secret of my Life to learn: And Lip to Lip it murmur'd — "While you live Drink! — for, once dead, you never shall return.""

"For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day, I watch'd the Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all obliterated Tongue It murmur'd—"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!""

"Ah, fill the Cup: — what boots it to repeat How Time is slipping underneath our Feet: Unborn and dead , Why fret about them if be sweet!"

"One Moment in Annihilation's Waste, One moment, of the Well of Life to taste — The Stars are setting, and the Caravan Starts for the dawn of Nothing — Oh, make haste!"

"For "" and "" though with Rule and Line, And, "Up-and-down" without, I could define, I yet in all I only cared to know, Was never deep in anything but — Wine."

"Perplext no more with Human or Divine, To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign, And lose your fingers in the tresses of The Cypress — slender Minister of Wine."

"And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press End in what All begins and ends in — Yes; Think then you are To-day what Yesterday You were — To-morrow You shall not be less."

"In divine High piping Péhlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine! "Red Wine!"—the Nightingale cries to the Rose That yellow Cheek of her's to'incarnadine."

"What, without asking, hither hurried whence? And, without asking, whither hurried hence! Another and another Cup to drown The Memory of this Impertinence!"

"Into this Universe, and why not knowing, Nor whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing: And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing."

"A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness — Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!"

"With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow; And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd — "I came like Water, and like Wind I go.""

"With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with my own hand labour'd it to grow: And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd— "I came like Water, and like Wind I go.""

"Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse — and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness — And Wilderness is Paradise enow."

"But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine, And many a Garden by the Water blows."

"Wake! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight The Stars before him from the Field of Night, Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light."

"Whoever thinks algebra is a trick in obtaining unknowns has thought it in vain. No attention should be paid to the fact that algebra and geometry are different in appearance. Algebras (jabbre and maqabeleh) are geometric facts which are proved by propositions five and six of Book two of Elements."

"Came out by the same Door where in I went."

"Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument About it and about: but evermore Came out by the same door as in I went."

"Well, let it take them! What have we to do With Kaikobad the Great, or Kaikhosru? Let Zal and Rustum bluster as they will, Or Hatim call to Supper — heed not you."

"Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the Two Worlds so wisely — they are thrust."

"Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the Two Worlds so learnedly — are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust."

"With me along the strip of Herbage strown That just divides the desert from the sown, Where name of Slave and Sultan is forgot — And Peace to Mahmud on his golden Throne!"

"Irám indeed is gone with all its Rose, And Jamshýd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields, And still a Garden by the Water blows."

"Of threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain — This Life flies."

"Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the Road, Which to discover we must travel too."

"Oh, threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain — This Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."

"Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise To talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies; One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."

"With me along some Strip of Herbage strown That just divides the desert from the sown, Where name of Slave and Sultán scarce is known, And pity Sultán Mahmúd on his Throne."

"The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn'd, Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep, They told their comrades, and to Sleep return'd."

"I sent my Soul through the Invisible, Some letter of that After-life to spell: And by and by my Soul return'd to me, And answer'd "I Myself am Heav'n and Hell.""

"Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire, And Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire, Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves, So late emerged from, shall so soon expire."

"We are no other than a moving row Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held In Midnight by the Master of the Show;"

"The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss'd Thee down into the Field, He knows about it all — knows — HE knows!"

"But Here or There as strikes the Player goes."

"The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it."

"And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky, Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die, Lift not thy hands to It for help — for It Rolls impotently on as Thou or I."

"And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky."

"As impotently moves as you or I."

"And this I know: whether the one True Light, Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite, One Glimpse of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright."

"One Flash of It within the Tavern caught."

"Oh Thou who didst with Pitfall and with Gin Beset the Road I was to wander in, Thou wilt not with Predestination round Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin?"

"Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil round Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin!"

"With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: And the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read."

"I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must, Scared by some After-reckoning ta'en on trust, Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink, To fill the Cup — when crumbled into Dust!"