Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/226

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I saw a busy potter by the way Kneading with might and main a lump of clay; And, lo! the clay cried, "Use me gently, pray, I was a man myself but yesterday!"

Oh! wine is richer than the realm of Jam, More fragrant than the food of Miriam; Sweeter are sighs that drunkards heave at morn Than strains of Bu Sa'íd and Bin Adham.

Deep in the rondure of the heavenly blue, There is a cup, concealed from mortals' view, Which all must drink in turn; sigh not then, But drink it boldly, when it comes to you!