Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/286

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If so it be that I did break the fast, Think not I meant it; no! I thought 'twas past;— That day more weary than a sleepless night,— And blessed breakfast-time had come at last!

I never drank of joy's sweet cordial, But grief's fell hand infused a drop of gall; Nor dipped my bread in pleasure's piquant salt, But briny sorrow made me smart withal!

At dawn to tavern haunts I wend my way, And with distraught Kalendars pass the day; O Thou! who know'st things secret, and things known, Grant me Thy grace, that I may learn to pray!