Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/354

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Winter is past, and spring-tide has begun, Soon will the pages of life's book be done! Well saith the sage, "Life is a poison rank, And antidote, save grape-juice, there is none."

Beloved, if thou a reverend Molla be. Quit saintly show, and feigned austerity, And quaff the wine that Murtaza purveys. And sport with Houris 'neath some shady tree!

Last night I dashed my cup against a stone. In a mad drunken freak, as I must own, And lo! the cup cries out in agony, "You too, like me, shall soon be overthrown."