Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/82

26

There is a mystery I know full well, Which to all, good and bad, I can not tell; My words are dark, but I can not unfold The secrets of the station where I dwell.

No base or light-weight coins pass current here, Of such a broom has swept our dwelling clear; Forth from the tavern comes a sage and cries, "Drink! for ye all must sleep through ages drear."

With outward seeming we can cheat mankind, But to God's will we can but be resigned; The deepest wiles my cunning e'er devised, To balk resistless fate no way could find.