Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/178

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To prayer and fasting when my heart inclined, All my desire I surely hoped to find; Alas! my purity is stained with wine, My prayers are wasted like a breath of wind.

I worship rose-red cheeks with heart and soul, I suffer not my hand to quit the bowl, I make each part of me his function do, Or e'er my parts be swallowed in the Whole.

This worldly love of yours is counterfeit, And, like a half-spent blaze, lacks light and heat; True love is his, who for days, months and years, Rests not, nor sleeps, nor craves for drink or meat.