John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Omar Khayyam fl 11th ent John Bartlett
| 1 |
| 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. |
| Rubáiyát. Stanza xix. |
| 2 |
| A Moment’s Halt—a momentary taste Of BEING from the Well amid the Waste— And, Lo! the phantom Caravan has reach’d The NOTHING it set out from. Oh, make haste! |
| Rubáiyát. Stanza xlviii. |
| 3 |
| Heav’n but the Vision of fulfill’d Desire, And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire. |
| Rubáiyát. Stanza lxvii. |
| 4 |
| The Moving Finger writes; and having writ, Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. |
| Rubáiyát. Stanza lxxi. |
| 5 |
| And this I know: whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite, One Flash of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright. |
| Rubáiyát. Stanza lxxvii. |
| 6 |
| And when like her, O Sáki, you shall pass Among the Guests Star-scatter’d on the Grass, And in your blissful errand reach the spot Where I made One—turn down an empty Glass. |
| Rubáiyát. Stanza ci. |