Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/96

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Bring wine! my heart with dancing spirit teems, Wake I fortune's waking is as fleeting dreams; Quicksilver-like our days are swift of foot, And youthful fire subsides as torrent streams.

Love's devotees, not Moslems here you see, Not Solomons, but ants of low degree; Here are but faces wan and tattered rags, No store of Cairene cloth or silk have we.

My law it is in pleasure's paths to stray, My creed to shun the theologic fray; I wedded Luck, and offered her a dower, She said, "I want none, so thy heart be gay."