Page:Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, the astronomer-poet of Persia (IA ru00biytofomaromarrich).pdf/24

 Now the New Year3 reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the on the Bough Puts out,4 and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

Irám indeed is gone with all its Rose,5 And Jamshýd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields, And still a Garden by the Water blows.

And David's Lips are lock't; but in divine High piping Péhlevi,6 with "Wine! Wine! Wine! "Red Wine!"—the Nightingale cries to the Rose That yellow Cheek7 of her's to'incarnadine.

Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To fly—and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.

And look—a thousand Blossoms with the Day Woke—and a thousand scatter'd into Clay: And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose Shall take Jamshýd and Kaikobád away.