Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/260

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I solved all problems, down from Saturn's wreath Unto this lowly sphere of earth beneath, And leapt out free from bonds of fraud and lies, Yea, every knot was loosed, save that of death!

Peace! the eternal "Has been" and "To be" Pass man's experience, and man's theory; In joyful seasons naught can vie with wine, To all these riddles wine supplies the key!

Allah, our Lord, is merciful, though just; Sinner! despair not, but His mercy trust! For though to-day you perish in your sins. To-morrow He'll absolve your crumbling dust.