Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/374

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If, like a ball, earth to my house were borne, When drunk, I'd rate it at a barley-corn; Last night they offered me in pawn for wine. But the rude vintner laughed that pledge to scorn.

Now in thick clouds Thy face Thou dost immerse, And now display it in this universe; Thou the spectator, Thou the spectacle, Sole to Thyself Thy glories dost rehearse,

Better to make one soul rejoice with glee, Than plant a desert with a colony; Rather one freeman bind with chains of love, Than set a thousand prisoned captives free!