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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 -
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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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 -
A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.
Omar Khayyam -
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 -
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 -
Living Life Tomorrow's fate, though thou be wise, Thou canst not tell nor yet surmise; Pass, therefore, not today in vain, For it will never come again.
Omar Khayyam -
Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate; And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road; But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.
Omar Khayyam
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That ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air As not a True-believer passing by But shall be overtaken unaware.
Omar Khayyam -
But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door You gaze To-day, while You are You - how then To-morrow, You when shall be You no more?
Omar Khayyam -
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 -
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 -
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 -
The Vine had struck a fibre: which about If clings my being - let the Dervish flout; Of my Base metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without.
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 -
Would but some wing'ed Angel ere too late Arrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate, And make the stern Recorder otherwise Enregister, or quite obliterate!
Omar Khayyam -
'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 -
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 -
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 -
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
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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 -
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.
Omar Khayyam -
Then said a Second - 'Ne'er a peevish Boy Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy, And He that with his hand the Vessel made Will surely not in after Wrath destroy'.
Omar Khayyam -
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'.
Omar Khayyam