Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/330

274

These heavens resemble an inverted cup, Whereto the wise with awe keep gazing up; So stoops the bottle o'er his love, the cup, Feigning to kiss, and gives her blood to sup!

I sweep the tavern threshold with my hair, For both worlds' good and ill I take no care; Should the two worlds roll to my house, like balls, When drunk, for one small coin I'd sell the pair 1

The drop wept for his severance from the sea, But the sea smiled, for "I am all," said he, "The Truth is all, nothing exists beside, That one point circling apes plurality."