Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/88

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Facts will not change to humor man's caprice, So vaunt not human powers, but hold your peace; Here must we stay, weighed down with grief for this, That we were born so late, so soon decease.

Khayyam! why weep you that your life is bad? What boots it thus to mourn? Rather be glad. He that sins not can make no claim to mercy, Mercy was made for sinners—be not sad.

All mortal ken is bounded by the veil, To see beyond man's sight is all too frail; Yea! earth's dark bosom is his only home:— Alas! 'twere long to tell the doleful tale.