I

AKE! For the Sun who scattered into flight

WAK

The Stars before him from the Field of Night,

Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes The Sultán's Turret with a Shaft of Light.

II

Before the phantom of False morning died,1
Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,
"When all the Temple is prepared within,
Why nods the drowsy Worshiper outside?"

III

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

IV

Now the New Year reviving old Desires,2

The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,

Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.3

1 The false morning was a transient light on the horizon about an hour before the true dawn, a well-known phenomenon in the East. 2 Omar's new year began with the vernal equinox.

3 That is where blossoms on the bough come forth white like the hand of Moses (when God made it "leprous as snow"-Exodus, iv, 6), and where plants awakened by the breath of Jesus spring up out of the earth. According to the Persians the healing power of Jesus resided his breath.

V

ram indeed is gone with all his Rose,1

nd Jamshyd's Sev'n-ringed Cup where no one knows; 2 But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine,

nd many a Garden by the Water blows.

VI

nd David's lips are lockt; but in divine
High-piping Pehleví, with "Wine! Wine! Wine!
Red Wine!"—the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That sallow cheek of hers t' incarnadine.3

VII

Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
our Winter-garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter—and the Bird is on the Wing.

VIII

Whether at Naishápúr or Babylon,

Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,
The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,
The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.

IX

ach Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say;

es, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?

And this first Summer month that brings the Rose hall take Jamshyd and Kaikobád away.1 4

1 Probably meaning: The city of Iram, with all its roses, is no more. 2 Jamshyd, often mentioned in the poem, was a legendary Persian ng, whose seven-ringed cup-typical of the seven heavens, seven planets, ven seas, etc.-bore astronomical signs and mystic letters, whereby its ssessor could foretell events. A commentator recalls to mind the vining cup of Joseph. See Prose, p. 763.

3 The nightingale, in its high ancient language (Pehleví was the old eroic Sanskrit of Persia), bids the yellow rose drink the red wine and come red.

* Kaikobád, like Jamshyd, was a legendary Persian king; Kaikhosrú, of e next quatrain, was his great-grandson.

X

Well, let it take them!

What have we to do

With Kaikobád the Great, or Kaikhosrú?
Let Zál and Rustum bluster as they will,
Or Hátim call to Supper-heed not you.1

XI

With me along the strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,

Where name of Slave and Sultán is forgot-
And Peace to Mahmúd on his golden Throne!

2

XII

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! 3

XIII

Some for the Glories of This World; and some
Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come;

Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go,

Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum! 4

1 Zál and Rustum, his son, are heroes of the Shahnama, the Persian epic. (This is the Rustum of Matthew Arnold's poem: see above, p. 308.) Hátim is a well-known type of Oriental generosity.

2 Sultan Mahmúd, who lived about a century earlier than Omar Khayyam, was famous for his successful invasions of India, whence he carried away rich treasures.

3 Enow is an old form of enough.

4 In the original quatrain the suggestion of the last line is distinct. The "credit," the promise of happiness in some remote hereafter, may be deceptive: heard from afar even the beating of a drum sounds sweet.

XIV

ook to the blowing Rose about us- -"Lo, aughing," she says, "into the world I blow, At once the silken tassel of my Purse

'ear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw." 1

XV

nd those who husbanded the Golden grain,
nd those who flung it to the winds like Rain,
Alike to no such aureate Earth are turned
s, buried once, Men want dug up again.

XVI

The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
urns Ashes—or it prospers; and anon,
Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,
ighting a little hour or two-is gone.

XVII

'hink, in this battered Caravanserai

2

Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day, How Sultán after Sultán with his Pomp bode his destined Hour, and went his way.

XVIII

hey say the Lion and the Lizard keep

The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep: 3 And Bahrám, that great Hunter—the Wild Ass tamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.

1 The treasure of the rose is its golden center.

2 Variant of caravansary (inn).

The great courts of the palaces at Persepolis, which me of Omar had been in ruins for a thousand years.

even

in the

XIX

I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Cæsar bled;
That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.

XX

And this reviving Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean-
Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!

XXI

Ah, my Belovéd, 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.

XXII

For some we loved, the loveliest and the best That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest, Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before, And one by one crept silently to rest.

XXIII

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?