Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/84

28

Is a friend faithless? spurn him as a foe; Upon trustworthy foes respect bestow; Hold healing poison for an antidote, And baneful sweets for deadly eisel know.

No heart is there but bleeds when torn from Thee, No sight so clear but craves Thy face to see; And though perchance Thou carest not for them, No soul is there but pines with care for Thee.

Sobriety doth dry up all delight, And drunkenness doth drown my sense outright; There is a middle state, it is my life, Not altogether drunk, nor sober quite.