EDWARD FITZGERALD
Then the clouds part,
Swallows soaring between ;
The spring is alive,
And the meadows are green '
I jump up like mad,
Break the old pipe in twain, And away to the meadows,
The meadows again '
��705 From Omar Khayyam
��A BOOK of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread and Thou Beside me singing in the Wildernesb O, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
Some for the Glories of This World; and some Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come,
Ah, take the Cabh, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!
Look to the blowing Rose about us c Lo, Laughing,' she says, 'into the world I blow,
At once the silken tassel of my Purse Tear, and itb Treasure on the Garden throw.'
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.
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