This page has been validated.
2
RUBÁIYÁT OF
IV.
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the White hand of Moses on the Bough
Puts out,4 and Jesus from the Ground suspires.
V.
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.
VI.
High piping Péhlevi,6 with "Wine! Wine! Wine!
"Red Wine!"—the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That yellow Cheek7 of her's to'incarnadine.
VII.
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.
VIII.
Woke—and a thousand scatter'd into Clay:
And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose
Shall take Jamshýd and Kaikobád away.