144. (264.)

I flew here, as a wandering bird in aim

Up to a higher nest my course to frame;

But, finding here no guide who knows the way, Fly out by the same door where through I came.

145. (265.)

He binds us in resistless Nature's chain,

And yet bids us our natures to restrain;

Between these counter rules we stand perplexed,

"Hold the jar slant, but all the wine retain."

146. (266.)

They go away, and none is seen returning,

To teach that other world's recondite learning; "Twill not be shown for dull mechanic prayers, For prayer is naught without true heartfelt yearning.

147. (267.)

Go to! Cast dust on those deaf skies, who spurn

Thy orisons and bootless prayers, and learn

To quaff the cup, and hover round the fair; Of all who go, did ever one return?

148. (268.)

Though Khayyam strings no pearls of righteous deeds,
Nor roots from out his soul sin's noisome weeds,
Yet will he not despair of heavenly grace,
Seeing that ONE as two he ne'er misreads.

149. (270.)

We are but chessmen, destined, it is plain,
That great chess player, Heaven, to entertain;
It moves us on life's chess-board to and fro,
And then in death's box shuts us up again.

150. (274.)

I put my lips to the cup, for I did yearn
The means of gaining length of days to learn;
It leaned its lip to mine, and whispered low,
"Drink! for, once gone, you never will return.”

Sin.

151. (277.)

AT Tús a bird perched in the ruined street
And on the skull of Káwús set his feet,

And thus he made his moan, " Alas, poor king!
Thy bells are hushed, thy drums have ceased to beat."

152. (279.)

What launched that golden orb his course to run,
What wrecks his firm foundations, when 'tis done,
No man of science ever weighed with scales,
Nor made assay with touchstone, no, not one!

Shin.

153. (280.)

I PRAY thee to my counsel lend thine ear,
Cast off this false hypocrisy's veneer;
This life a moment is, the next all time,
Sell not eternity for earthly gear!

154. (282.)

Khayyam! rejoice that wine you still can pour, And still the charms of tulip cheeks adore; You'll soon not be, rejoice then that you are, Think how 'twould be in case you were no more!

155. (283.)

Once, in a potter's shop, a company

Of cups in converse did I chance to see,

66

And lo! one lifted up his voice, and cried,

'Who made, who sells, who buys this pottery?"

156. (287.)

Although the creeds number some seventy-three,

I hold with none but that of loving Thee;

What matter faith, unfaith, obedience, sin? Thou'rt all we need, the rest is vanity.

157. (288.)

Tell one by one my scanty virtues o'er;
As for my sins, forgive them by the score;
Let not my faults kindle Thy wrath to flame;
By blest Muhammad's tomb, forgive once more!

158. (290.)

There is a chalice made with art profound, With tokens of the Maker's favour crowned; Yet the great Potter takes his masterpiece, And dashes it to pieces on the ground!