A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
This pair of quatrains must be considered together. They owe their
origin to O. 155 and O. 149.
If a loaf of wheaten bread be forthcoming,
A gourd of wine, and a thigh-bone of mutton,
And then, if thou and I be sitting in the wilderness,--
That were a joy not within the power of any Sultan.
_Ref._: O. 155, C. 474, L. 697, B. 688, S.P. 442, P. 229, B. ii. 591. T.
292, P. iv. 24, P. v. 109.--W. 479, N. 448, V. 749.
I desire a flask of ruby wine and a book of verses
Just enough to keep me alive,[35] and half a loaf is needful,
And then, that thou and I should sit in the wilderness,
Is better than the kingdom of a Sultan.
_Ref._: O. 149, S.P. 408.--W. 452, N. 413, E.C. 13.
XIII.
Some for the Glories of This World; and some
Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come;
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go
Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!
The original of this quatrain is found in O. 34.
They say that the Garden of Eden is pleasant with houris:
_I_ say that the juice of the grape is pleasant.
Hold fast this cash and keep thy hand from that credit,
For the noise of drums, brother, is pleasant from afar.
_Ref._: O. 34, C. 51, L. 95, B. 91, P. iii. 3, P. 323, P. v. 36.--W.
108, V. 95.
C. 156 is almost identical in sentiment:
They say that there will be heaven and the Fount of Kausar,[36]
That there, there will be pure wine and honey and sugar,
Fill up the wine-cup and place it in my hand,
(For) ready cash is better than a thousand credits.
_Ref._: C. 156, L. 297, B. 293, S.P. 169, B. ii. 223, T. 141.--N. 169,
V. 300.
C. 288 reproduces the same image, and we have a parallel for ll. 1 and 2
in ll. 1 and 2 of C. 225.
Mankind are fallen from vain imagining into pride,
And are consumed in the search after houris and palaces.[37]
_Ref._: C. 225, L. 279, B. 275, S.P. 167, T. 163.--W. 184, N. 167, V.
283.
O. 40 may also be cited for the closeness of its parallel both to this,
and to the preceding quatrain:
I know not whether he who fashioned me
Appointed me to dwell in heaven or in dreadful hell,
(But) some food, and an adored one, and wine[38] upon the
green bank of a field--
All these three are present cash to me: thine be the promised heaven!
_Ref._: O. 40, L. 89, B. 85, C. 107, S.P. 92, T. 84, P. v. 176.--W. 94,
N. 92, V. 89.
XIV.
Look to the blowing Rose about us--«Lo,
Laughing,» she says, «into the world I blow,
At once the silken tassel of my Purse
Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw.»
This quatrain is translated from C. 383
The rose said: I brought a gold-scattering hand,
Laughing, laughing, have I blown into the world,
I snatched the noose-string from off the head of my purse
and I am gone!
I flung into the world all the ready money that I had.
_Ref._: C. 383 _only_.
XV.
And those who husbanded the Golden grain,
And those who flung it to the winds like Rain,
Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd
As, buried once, Men want dug up again.
The inspiration for this quatrain comes from O. 68.
Ere that fate makes an attack upon thy head
Give orders that they bring thee rose-coloured wine;
Thou art not treasure, O heedless dunce! that thee
They hide in the earth and then dig up again.[39]
_Ref._: O. 68, C. 151, L. 277, B. 273, S.P. 156, P. 336, P. v. 11.--W.
175, N. 156, E.C. 31, V. 281.
XVI.
The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
Turns Ashes--or it prospers; and anon,
Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,
Lighting a little hour or two--is gone.
The inspiration for this quatrain is to be found in C. 266.
O heart! Suppose all this world's affairs were within your power,
And the whole world from end to end as you desire it,
And then, like snow in the desert, upon its surface
Resting for two or three days, understand yourself to be gone!
_Ref._: C. 266, L. 420, B. 416, P. 144, B. ii. 260, T. 168.--V 443.
XVII.
Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai
Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day,
How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp
Abode his destined Hour, and went his way.
This quatrain owes its origin to C. 95.
This worn caravanserai which is called the world
Is the resting-place of the piebald horse of night and day;
It is a pavilion which has been abandoned by an hundred Jamshyds;
It is a palace that is the resting-place of an hundred Bahrams.[40]
_Ref._: C. 95, L. 203, B. 200, S.P. 67, P. 120, B. ii. 42, T. 79 and
357.--W. 70, N. 67, V. 199.
XVIII.
They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep:
And Bahram, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass
Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.
The original of this quatrain is C. 99.
In that palace where Bahram grasped the wine-cup;
The foxes whelp, and the lions take their rest;
Bahram who was always catching (_gur_) wild asses,--
To-day behold that the (_gur_) grave has caught Bahram.
_Ref._: C. 99, L. 210, B. 207, S.P. 69, P. 48 and 139, B. ii. 51, T. 82
and 294, P. iv. 12, P. v. 156.--W. 72, N. 69, V. 205.
XIX.
I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Cæsar bled
That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.
The original of this quatrain is found in O. 43.
Everywhere that there has been a rose or tulip bed,
It has come from the redness of the blood of a king;
Every violet shoot that grows from the earth
Is a mole[41] that was (once) upon the cheek of a beauty.
_Ref._: O. 43, C. 47, L. 110, B. 106, B. ii. 105, T. 304, P. v. 159.--W.
104, E.C. 4, V. 109.
XX.
And this reviving Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River-lip on which we lean--
Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!
The original of this quatrain was C. 44.
All verdure that grows upon the margin of a stream,
You may say, grows from the lip of one angel-natured;
Beware not to set foot contemptuously upon the verdure,
For that verdure grows from the clay of one tulip-cheeked.
_Ref._: C. 44, L. 62, B. 59, S.P. 59, P. 64, T. 349, P. iv. 20.--W. 62,
N. 59, V. 61.
XXI.
Ah, my Belovéd, fill the Cup that clears
TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears:
_To-morrow!_--Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years.
This quatrain is translated from C. 348.
Come, O friend! and let us not suffer anguish concerning the morrow.
Let us take advantage of these few ready-money moments,
When, to-morrow, we depart from the face of the earth
We shall be equal with those who went seven thousand years ago.
_Ref._: C. 348, L. 546, B. 540, S.P. 268, P. 122, B. ii. 351, T. 233, P.
v. 96.--W. 312, N. 269, V. 586.
XXII.
For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to rest.
The inspiration for this quatrain is found in C. 185.
All my sympathetic friends have left me,
One by one they have sunk low at the foot of Death.
In the fellowship of souls they were cup-companions,
A turn or two before me they became drunk.
_Ref._: C. 185, L. 381, B. 377, P. ii. 4, B. ii. 141.--W. 219, V. 379.
XXIII.
And we, that now make merry in the Room
They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom,
Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth
Descend--ourselves to make a Couch--for whom?
The main inspiration of this quatrain comes from C. 388.
Arise, and do not sorrow for this fleeting world,
Be at peace, and pass through the world with happiness.
If the nature of the world were constant
The turn of others would not have descended to you yourself.[42]
_Ref._: C. 388, L. 585, B. 578, S.P. 322, P. 159 and 178, B. ii. 430, T.
264, P. iv. 29 and 62.--W. 366, N. 325, V. 632.
Combined with the suggestion contained in this ruba'i, we find the echo
of a sentiment that recurs continually in the originals, _e.g._, C. 82
(ll. 3 and 4) and O. 129 (ll. 3 and 4).
This verdure, which for the present is my pleasure-ground
Until the verdure (springing) from my clay shall become
a pleasure-ground--for whom?
_Ref._: C. 82, L. 191, B. 188, S.P. 70, P. 305, B. ii. 36, T. 63 and
351.--W. 73, N. 70, V. 187.
Sit upon the greensward, O Idol, for it will not be long
Ere that greensward shall grow from my dust and thine.
_Ref._: O. 129, C. 416, L. 634, B. 626, S.P. 345, P. 47, B. ii. 464, P.
v. 131--W. 390, N. 348, E.C. 3, V. 683.
XXIV.
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End!
The inspiration for this quatrain is found in the following (O. 76 and
35).
Do not allow sorrow to embrace thee,
Nor an idle grief to occupy thy days,
Forsake not the book and the lover's lips and the green bank
of the field,
Ere that the earth enfold thee in its bosom.
_Ref._: O. 76, C. 173, L. 315, B. 311, P. 189, B. ii. 233, T. 121, P. v.
39.--de T. 9, V. 317.
Drink wine, for thou wilt sleep long beneath the clay
Without an intimate, a friend, a comrade, or a mate.
_Ref._: O. 35, C. 80, L. 188, B. 185, P. 284, T. 60.--W. 107, V. 184.
XXV.
Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare,
And those that after some TO-MORROW stare,
A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries,
«Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There.»
The inspiration for this quatrain is in C. 396.
Some are immersed in contemplation of doctrine and faith,
Others stand stupefied between doubt and certainty,
Suddenly a Muezzin, from his lurking place, cries out
«O Fools! the Road[43] is neither here nor there.»
_Ref._: C. 396, L. 591, B. 584, S.P. 324, P. iii. 6, P. 65.--W. 376, N.
337, V. 638.
XXVI.
Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
Of the Two Worlds so wisely--they are thrust
Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to scorn
Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with dust.
This quatrain is taken from O. 140 and C. 236.
Those, O Saki, who have gone before us,
Have fallen asleep, O Saki, in the dust (or _khwab_ sleep)
of self-esteem,
Go thou and drink wine, and hear the truth from me,
Whatever they have said, O Saki, is but wind!
_Ref._: O. 140, C. 453, L. 687, B. 678, S.P. 380, P. 260, B. ii. 525, T.
279, P. v. 22.--W 428, N. 384, V. 739.
Those who are the cream of the existence of mankind,
Spur the Burak of their thoughts up to the highest heaven,[44]
In the study of your being, like heaven itself
Their heads are turned, and overset, and spinning.
_Ref._: C. 236, L. 326, B. 322, S.P. 120, T. 155, W. 147, N. 120, V.
328.
XXVII.
Myself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument
About it and about: but evermore
Came out by the same door wherein I went.
XXVIII.
With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow,
And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow;
And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd--
«I came like Water, and like Wind I go.»
These two quatrains must be considered together. They are inspired by O.
121, C. 281, and O. 72.
For a while, when young, we frequented a teacher,
For a while we were contented with our proficiency;
Behold the end of the discourse:--what happened to us?
We came like water and we went like wind.
_Ref._: O. 121, L. 544, B. 538, B. ii. 420, P. v. 99.--W 353, V. 584.
Being (once) a falcon, I flew from the World of mystery,
That from below I might soar to the heights above;
But, not finding there any intimate friend,
I came out by the same door wherein I went.[45]
_Ref._: C. 281, L. 429, B. 425, S.P. 224, P. 30, B. ii. 295, T. 184.--W.
264, N. 225, V. 467.
A quatrain that probably contributed to FitzGerald's verse is:
No one has solved the tangled secrets of eternity,
No one has set foot beyond the orbit (of human under-standing),
Since, so far as I can see, from tyro to teacher,
Impotent are the hands of all men born of women.
_Ref._: O. 72, C. 176, L. 357, B. 353, S.P. 175, B. ii. 211, P. v.
210--W. 190, N. 175, V. 356.
XXIX.
Into this Universe, and _Why_ not knowing
Nor _Whence_, like Water willy-nilly flowing;
And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
I know not _Whither_, Willy-nilly blowing.
The inspiration for this quatrain is to be found in the following: C.
235 and O. 20 (ll. 1 and 2).
He first brought me in confusion into existence,
What do I gain from my life save my amazement at it?
We went away against our will, and we know not what was
The purpose of this coming, and going, and being.
_Ref._: C. 235, L. 324, B. 320, S.P. 117, T. 153.--W. 145, N. 117, V.
326.
Like water in a great river and like wind in the desert,
Another day passes out of the period of my existence.[46]
_Ref._: O. 20, C. 23 and 55, L. 84, B. 80, S.P. 22, P. ii. 2, P. 162, B.
ii. 24 and 88, T. 22 and 305, P. v. 140 and 186, W. 26, N. 22 and 42, V.
83.
XXX.
What, without asking, hither hurried _Whence_?
And, without asking, _Whither_ hurried hence!
Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine
Must drown the memory of that insolence!
This quatrain owes its origin to two ruba'iyat in O., viz., 21 and 151.
Seeing that my coming was not in my power at the Day of Creation,[47]
And that my undesired departure hence is a purpose fixed (for me),
Get up and gird well thy loins, O nimble cup-bearer,
For I will wash down the misery of the world in wine.
_Ref._: O. 21, C. 49, L. 94, B. 90, B. ii. 86, P. v. 123.--W. 110, V.
94.
Had I charge of the matter I would not have come,
And, likewise, could I control my going, how should I have gone?
There could have been nothing better than that in this world
I had neither come, nor gone, nor lived?
_Ref._: O. 157, C. 494, L. 732, B. 720, P. 88, B. ii. 590 and 593, P.
iv. 17, P. v. 130.--W. 490, E.C. 30, N. 450, V. 785.
XXXI.
Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate
I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,
And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road;
But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.
This quatrain is translated from C. 314.
From the Nadir of the earthly globe, up to the Zenith of Saturn
I solved all the problems of heaven;
I escaped from the bondage of all trickery and deceit,
All obstacles were removed save only the Bond of Fate.
_Ref._: C. 314, L. 491, B. 487, B. ii. 338, T. 215.--W. 303, V. 531.
XXXII.
There was the Door to which I found no Key;
There was the Veil through which I might not see:
Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE
There was--and then no more of THEE and ME.
The main inspiration of this quatrain is found in C. 387.
Neither thou nor I know the secret of Eternity,
And neither thou nor I can de-cypher this riddle;
There is a talk behind the Curtain[48] of me and thee
But when the Curtain falls neither thou nor I are there.
_Ref._: C. 387, L. 581, B. 574, P. 33, B. ii. 421, T. 260.--W. 389, V.
628.
We also see in the quatrain the influence of O. 29 and C. 193, ll. 1 and
2.
No one can pass behind the Curtain (that veils) the secret,
The mind of no one is cognizant of what is there:[49]
_Ref.:_ O. 29, C. 56, L. 61, B. 58, S.P. 43, P. 63, B. ii. 103, P. v.
188.--W. 47, N. 44, V. 60.
No one can pass behind the Curtain of Fate
No one is master of the Secret of Destiny.
_Ref.:_ C. 193, L. 345, B. 341, S.P. 177, B. ii. 212.--W 192, N. 177, V.
346.
XXXIII.*
Earth could not answer; nor the seas that mourn
In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn;
Nor rolling Heaven, with all his Signs reveal'd
And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn.
This is the quatrain (not No. 31 as stated by Mr. Aldis Wright in his
Editorial Note) taken by Edward FitzGerald from the Mantik ut-tair of
Ferid ud din Attar. The story which inspired it begins at distich No.
972, and is as follows:
An observer of spiritual things approached the sea
And said «O sea, why are you blue?
Why do you wear the robe of mourning?
There is no fire, why do you boil?»
The sea made answer to that good-hearted one,
«I weep for my separation from the Friend,
Since by reason of my impotence I am not worthy of Him,
I have made my robe blue on account of my sorrow for Him.»
XXXIV.
Then of the THEE in ME who works behind
The Veil, I lifted up my hands to find
A lamp amid the Darkness; and I heard,
As from Without--«THE ME WITHIN THEE BLIND!»
That Edward FitzGerald was not following any particular ruba'iyat of the
original MSS. is clearly indicated by the great variation observable in
the forms that this quatrain successively assumed in the first, second
and third editions. It suggests an exposition of the Sufi doctrine of
the emanation of the mortal Creature from God the Creator, and his
reabsorption into God. There is a quatrain in L. (No. 641) and in B. ii.
(No. 457) which is akin to it, but FitzGerald was not acquainted with
these texts. (It is No. 400 in W.) I have no doubt that FitzGerald's
34th quatrain was suggested to him by two intricate passages in the
Mantik ut-tair, commencing respectively at distich 3090 and distich
3735. The first of these may be translated:
«The Creator of the World spoke thus to David from behind the Curtain of
the Secret: 'For everything in the world, good or bad, visible or
invisible, thou canst find a substitute, but for Me, thou canst find
neither substitute nor equal. Since nothing can be substituted for Me,
do not cease to abide in Me. I am thy Soul, destroy not thou thy Soul, I
am necessary to thee, O thou my servant. Seek not to exist apart from
Me.'»
The second passage reads: «Since long ago, really, I am thee, and thou
art Me, we two are but One. Art thou Me, or am I thee? is there any
duality in the matter? Either I am thee, or thou art Me, or thou, thou
art thyself. Since thou art Me and I am thee for ever, our two bodies
are One: Salutation!»
XXXV.
Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn
I lean'd, the Secret of my Life to learn;
And Lip to Lip it murmur'd--«While you live,
«Drink!--for, once dead, you never shall return.»
This quatrain is translated from O. 100:
In great desire I pressed my lips to the lip of the jar,
To enquire from it how long life might be attained;
It joined its lip to mine and whispered,
«Drink wine! for to this world thou returnest not.»
_Ref._: O. 100, C. 283, L. 446, B. 442, P. 99, B. ii. 303, T. 185, P. v.
193.--W. 274, E.C. 25, V. 482.
C. 489 is a mystic and doctrinal quatrain containing the same
injunction.
Drink wine! for I have told you a thousand times
There is no returning for you; when you are gone, you are _gone_!
_Ref._: C. 489, L. 723, B. 712, S.P. 385, B. ii. 526, P. iv. 67, P. v.
104--W. 431, N. 389, V. 775.
XXXVI.
I think the Vessel, that with fugitive
Articulation answer'd, once did live,
And drink; and Ah! the passive Lip I kiss'd,
How many Kisses might it take--and give!
The inspiration for this quatrain occurs in O. 9.
This jug was once a plaintive lover, as I am,
And was in pursuit of one of comely face;[50]
This handle that thou seest upon its neck
Is an arm that once lay around the neck of a friend.
_Ref._: O. 9, C. 48 and 426, L. 81, B. 77, S.P. 28, P. 108, B. ii. 28,
P. v. 142.--W. 32, N. 28, E.C. 5, V. 80.
XXXVII.
For I remember stopping by the way
To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay;
And with its all-obliterated Tongue
It murmur'd--«Gently, Brother, gently, pray!»
The original of this quatrain is O. 89.
I saw a potter in the bazaar yesterday,
He was violently pounding some fresh clay,
And that clay said to him in mystic language,
«I was once like thee--so treat me well.»
_Ref._: O. 89, C. 261, L. 411, B. 407, S.P. 210, P. 100, B. ii. 274, P.
iv. 71, P. v. 198.--W. 252, N. 211, V. 434.
XXXVIII.*
And has not such a Story from of Old
Down Man's successive generations roll'd
Of such a clod of saturated Earth
Cast by the maker into Human mould?
This quatrain, which is in the nature of a reflection upon the three
preceding ones, conveys an idea which is constantly recurrent in the
ruba'iyat. Edward FitzGerald himself records, in a note, that, in
composing this quatrain, he had in mind a very beautiful story in the
Mantik ut-tair of the water of a certain well which, ordinarily sweet,
became bitter when drawn in a vessel made from clay which once had been
a man. For its inclusion in this poem FitzGerald had the support of two
(among many) quatrains from C. 475 and 488.
I pondered over the workshop of a potter;
In the shadow of the wheel I saw that the master, with his feet,
Made handles and covers for goblets and jars,
Out of the skulls of kings and the feet of beggars.
_Ref._: C. 475, L. 698, B. 689, S.P. 426, P. 103, B. ii. 576.--W. 466,
N. 431, V. 750.
I made my way into the (abode of the) potters of the age,
Every moment shewed some new skill with clay;
I saw, though men devoid of vision saw it not,
My ancestors' dust on the hands of every potter.
_Ref._: C. 488, L. 721, B. 710, P. 101, B. ii. 543.--W 493, V. 773.
XXXIX.*
And not a drop that from our Cups we throw
For Earth to Drink of, but may steal below
To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye
There hidden--far beneath and long ago.
This quatrain is taken from ll. 1 and 2 of O. 81
Every draught that the Cup-bearer scatters upon the earth
Quenches the fire of anguish in some burning eye.
_Ref._: O. 81, C. 180, L. 367, B. 363, S.P. 188, P. 231, B. ii. 241, P.
v. 187.--W. 203, N. 188, V. 366.
XL.*
As then the Tulip for her morning sup
Of Heav'nly Vintage from the soil looks up,
Do you devoutly do the like, till Heav'n
To Earth invert you--like an empty Cup.
The original of this quatrain is C. 37.
Like a tulip in the spring uplift your cup;
If you get a (happy) opportunity with a moon-faced one,
Drink wine with cheerfulness, for this worn-out sky
Will suddenly invert you to the level of the earth.
_Ref._: C. 37, L. 136, B. 133, S.P. 39, B. ii. 84, T. 40 and 311.--W 44,
N. 40, V. 135.
XLI.*
Perplext no more with Human or Divine,
To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign,
And lose your fingers in the tresses of
The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine.
The sentiment of this quatrain is very recurrent. I think that
FitzGerald's first inspiration comes from O. 73.
Set limits to thy desire for worldly things and live content,
Sever the bonds of thy dependence upon the good and bad of life,
Take wine in hand and (play with) the curls of a loved one; for quickly
All passeth away--and these few days will not remain.
_Ref._: O. 73, C. 179, L. 256, B. 253, S.P. 176.--W. 191, N. 176, V.
262.
Ll. 3 and 4 of O. 118 suggest the quatrain also.
Let us cease to strive after our long delaying hope[51]
And play with long ringlets and the handle of the lute.
_Ref._: O. 118, L. 571, B. 564, S.P. 293, B. ii. 391.--W. 332, N. 294,
V. 611.
Ll. 1 and 2 of O. 131 are also in point:
Flee from the study of all sciences--'tis better thus,
And twine thy fingers in the curly locks of a loved one--'tis
better thus.
_Ref._: O. 131, C. 443, L. 670, B. 662, S.P. 356, P. 296, B. ii. 480, T.
276, P. v. 158.--W. 426, N. 359, V. 719.
FitzGerald was probably «reminded of» these by Nicolas whose quatrains
48, 155, and 359 (C. 443) convey the same idea.
XLII.
And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,
End in what All begins and ends in--Yes;
Think then you are TO-DAY what YESTERDAY
You were--TO-MORROW you shall not be less.
The inspiration for this quatrain is contained in the following, O. 102
and C. 412.
Khayyam, if thou art drunk with wine,[52] be happy,
If thou reposest with one tulip-cheeked, be happy,
Since the end of all things is that thou wilt be naught,
Whilst thou art, imagine that thou art not--be happy!
_Ref._: O. 102, C. 291, L. 454, B. 450, S.P. 241, P. 202, B. ii. 322, T.
192 and 296, P. iv. 26, P. v. 5.--W. 282, N. 242, V. 493.
Remember not the day that has passed away from thee,
Be not hard upon the morrow that has not come,
Think not about thine own coming or departure,
Drink wine _now_, and fling not thy life to the winds.
_Ref._: C. 412, L. 619, B. 611, P. 116, B. ii. 444, P. v. 121.--V. 666.
XLIII.
So when that Angel of the darker Drink
At last shall find you by the river-brink,
And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul
Forth to your Lips to quaff--you shall not shrink.
This quatrain owes its origin to C. 256.[53]
In the circle of the firmament, whose depths are invisible,
There is a cup which, in due time, they will cause all to drink;
When thy turn comes, do not utter lamentations,
Drink wine gaily for it has come to be thy turn.
_Ref._: C. 256, L. 408, B. 404, B. ii. 273.--W. 254, V. 431.
XLIV.
Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,
Were't not a Shame--were't not a Shame for him
In this clay carcase crippled to abide?
This quatrain is translated from O. 145.
Oh Soul! if thou canst purify thyself from the dust of the body,
Thou, naked spirit, canst soar in the heavens,
The Empyrean is thy sphere--let it be thy shame,
That thou comest and art a dweller within the confines of earth.[54]
_Ref._: O. 145, C. 447, L. 707, B. 697, S.P. 389, P. 111, B. ii.
523.--W. 436, N. 394, E.C. 7, V. 759.
XLV.
'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest
A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest;
The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash
Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest.
This quatrain is translated from C. no. 110.