Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/58



At dawn a cry through all the tavern shrilled, "Arise my brethren of the revellers' guild,    That I may fill our measures full of wine, Or e'er the measure of our days be filled."

Who was it brought thee here at nightfall, who? Forth from the harem, in this manner, who? To him who in thy absence burns as fire, And trembles like hot air, who was it, who?