Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/144

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Full many a hill and vale I journeyed o'er; Journeyed through the world's wide quarters four, But never heard of pilgrim who returned; When once they go, they go to come no more.

Wine-houses flourish through this thirst of mine, Loads of remorse weigh down this back of mine; Yet, if I sinned not, what would mercy do? Mercy depends upon these sins of mine.

Thy being is the being of Another, Thy passion is the passion of Another. Cover thy head, and think, and thou wilt see, Thy hand is but the cover of Another.