Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/268

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I close the door of hope in my own face. Nor sue for favours from good men, or base; I have but ONE to lend a helping hand, He knows, as well as I, my sorry case.

Ah! by these heavens, that ever circling run. And by my own base lusts I am undone, Without the wit to abandon worldly hopes. And wanting sense the world's allures to shun!

On earth's green carpet many sleepers lie, And hid beneath it others I descry; And others, not yet come, or passed away, People the desert of Nonentity!