Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/128

72

Wine is a melting ruby, cup its mine; Cup is the body, and the soul is wine; These crystal goblets smile with ruddy wine Like tears, that blood of wounded hearts enshrine.

Drink wine! 'tis life etern, and travail's meed, Fruitage of youth, and balm of age's need; 'Tis the glad time of roses, wine and friends; Rejoice thy spirit—that is life indeed.

Drink wine! long must you sleep within the tomb, Without a friend, or wife to cheer your gloom; Hear what I say, and tell it not again, Never again can withered tulips bloom.