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What! from his helpless Creature be repaid Pure Gold for what he lent him dross-allay'd - Sue for a Debt he never did contract, And cannot answer - Oh, the sorry trade!
Omar Khayyam
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Alike for those who for To-day prepare, And those that after some To-morrow stare, A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries 'Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There'.
Omar Khayyam
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The Grape that can with Logic absolute The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute: The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute:
Omar Khayyam
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Ah, Love! could you and I with Him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits - and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!
Omar Khayyam
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The mighty Mahmud, Allah-breathing Lord That all the misbelieving and black Horde Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword.
Omar Khayyam
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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.
Omar Khayyam
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Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say; Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?
Omar Khayyam
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'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest; The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest.
Omar Khayyam
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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.
Omar Khayyam
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Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains; Taking all shapes from Mah to Mahi; and They change and perish all - but He remains;
Omar Khayyam
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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:'
Omar Khayyam
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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!
Omar Khayyam
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'Why,' said another, 'Some there are who tell Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell The luckless Pots he marr'd in making - Pish! He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well'.
Omar Khayyam
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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!
Omar Khayyam
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A Hair perhaps divides the False and True; Yes; and a single Alif were the clue - Could you but find it - to the Treasure-house, And peradventure to The Master too;
Omar Khayyam
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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!
Omar Khayyam
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Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the branches sang, Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows!
Omar Khayyam
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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.
Omar Khayyam
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A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.
Omar Khayyam
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A Moment's Halt - a momentary taste Of Being from the Well amid the Waste - And Lo! - the phantom Caravan has reach'd The Nothing it set out from - Oh, make haste!
Omar Khayyam
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And when like her, oh, Saki, you shall pass Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass, And in your joyous errand reach the spot Where I made One - turn down an empty Glass!
Omar Khayyam
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The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Turns Ashes - or it prospers; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, Lighting a little hour or two - is gone.
Omar Khayyam
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Then of the Thee in Me works behind The Veil, I lifted up my hands to find A Lamp amid the Darkness; and I heard, As from Without - 'The Me Within Thee Blind!'
Omar Khayyam
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For 'Is' and 'Is-not' though with Rule and Line And 'Up' and 'Down' by Logic I define, Of all that one should care to fathom, Was never deep in anything but - Wine.
Omar Khayyam
