FROM THE OLD FITZ, MEMORIIES OF THE RUBAIYAT

Myself when young did eagerly frequent 
Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument 
About it and about: but evermore 
Came out by the same door where in I went. 


With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, 
And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow; 
And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd-- 
"I came like Water, and like Wind I go." 



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. 

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, 
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou 
Beside me singing in the Wilderness-- 
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow! 


Some for the Glories of This World; and some 
Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come; 
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, 
Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum! 


Look to the blowing Rose about us--"Lo, 
Laughing," she says, "into the world I blow, 
At once the silken tassel of my Purse 
Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw

 And we, that now make merry in the Room 
They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom 
Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth 
Descend--ourselves to make a Couch--for whom? 


Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, 
Before we too into the Dust descend; 
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie 
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and--sans End! 



Alike for those who for To-day prepare, 
And those that after some To-morrow stare, 
A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries 
"Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There." 


XXVI 
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. 

Ah, my Belov'ed fill the Cup that clears 
To-day Past Regrets and Future Fears: 
To-morrow!--Why, To-morrow I may be 
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years. 


For some we loved, the loveliest and the best 
That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest, 
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before, 
And one by one crept silently to rest.