The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
Omar Khayyam (Edward FitzGerald translation)
261 passages indexed from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (Omar Khayyam (Edward FitzGerald translation)) — Page 6 of 6
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The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 138
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.
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 56
And this delightful Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean--
Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 233
Apropos of Omar's Red Roses in Stanza xix, I am reminded of an old
English Superstition, that our Anemone Pulsatilla, or purple "Pasque
Flower," (which grows plentifully about the Fleam Dyke, near
Cambridge,) grows only where Danish Blood has been spilt.
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 230
The Palace that to Heav'n his pillars threw,
And Kings the forehead on his threshold drew--
I saw the solitary Ringdove there,
And "Coo, coo, coo," she cried; and "Coo, coo, coo."
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 215
(Stanza I.) Flinging a Stone into the Cup was the signal for "To
Horse!" in the Desert.
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 66
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 Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 89
And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky,
Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die,
Lift not thy hands to IT for help--for It
Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 226
(XIII.) A Drum--beaten outside a Palace.
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 3
Omar Khayyam, The Astronomer-Poet of Persia.
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 47
With me along some Strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,
Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce is known,
And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne.
The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, passage 67
What, without asking, hither hurried whence?
And, without asking, whither hurried hence!
Another and another Cup to drown
The Memory of this Impertinence!
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