Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/70

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Young wooer, charm all hearts with lover's art, Glad winner, lead thy paragon apart! A hundred Ka'bas equal not one heart, Seek not the Ka'ba, rather seek a heart!

What time, my cup in hand, its draughts I drain, And with rapt heart unconsciousness attain, Behold what wondrous miracles are wrought, Songs flow as water from my burning brain.

To-day is but a breathing space, quaff wine! Thou wilt not see again this life of thine; So, as the world becomes the spoil of time, Offer thyself to be the spoil of wine!