What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer Poet of Persia
Edward Fitzgerald,Omar Khayyam,William Brown Macdougall
No preview available - 2015
answer'd Bahrain blows Bough Bowl buried Calcutta Review Clay common Earth Copy Country's Cowell cried D'Herbelot danad u danad Dawn didst Door double that Number Dusk Dust Dynasty Eesult Eoses Fansy Fate fill the Cup FitzGerald fling Flowers flung fugitive Garden Glimpse Grape Greek Hafiz Hasan Hatim heard Imam Mowaffak India Iram Is't Jamshyd Kaikobad Khiam Khorassan King Knot Koran leave the Wise Malik Shah merry Moon Musulman mutual pledge Mysticism Naishapur Nightingale Nizam al Mulk old Khayyam Old Omar Omar Khayyam Omar's once lovely Oriental Paradise Pehlevi perhaps Persepolis Persian Play'd Poems Poets Potter pupils QUARITCH Quatrain Ramazan Rose Rubaiyat Saturn Seven Heavens Shah-nama Soul Spring Story Subhi Sufi Sultan sweet Tavern Tear Tetrastich Thee Thou Throne To-day To-morrow UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN Vernal Equinox Verse Vessel Vine Vizier whence whither Wild Ass willy-nilly Wine wing'd Words Worldly Yellow
Page 5 - Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend: Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and —sans End!
Page 11 - The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Here or There as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss'd you down into the Field, He knows about it all — HE knows — HE knows!
Page 4 - And those who husbanded the Golden grain, And those who flung it to the winds like Rain, Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd As, buried once, Men want dug up again.
Page 17 - Hiems' thin and icy crown An odorous chaplet of sweet summer buds Is, as in mockery, set.
Page 5 - Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears — To-morrow ? — Why, To-morrow I may be Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years.
Page 11 - With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: And the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.
Page 5 - And we, that now make merry in the Room They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom, Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth Descend — ourselves to make a Couch — for whom?
Page 15 - And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour — well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the Goods they sell.