Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, the astronomer-poet of Persia; . asking, Whither hurried hence ! Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden WineMust drown the memory of that insolence ! XXXI Up from Earths Centre through the Seventh GateI rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, And many a Knot unraveld by the Road;But not the Master-knot of Human Fate. XXXII There was the Door to which I found no Key;There was the Veil through which I might not see : Some little talk awhile of Me and TheeThere was — and then no more of Thee and Me. XXXIII Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mournIn flowing Purple, of th
Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, the astronomer-poet of Persia; . asking, Whither hurried hence ! Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden WineMust drown the memory of that insolence ! XXXI Up from Earths Centre through the Seventh GateI rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, And many a Knot unraveld by the Road;But not the Master-knot of Human Fate. XXXII There was the Door to which I found no Key;There was the Veil through which I might not see : Some little talk awhile of Me and TheeThere was — and then no more of Thee and Me. XXXIII Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mournIn flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn ; Nor rolling Heaven, with all his Signs revealdAnd hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn. xxxivThen of the Thee in Me who works behindThe Veil, I lifted up my hands to find A Lamp amid the Darkness; and I heard,As from Without— The Me within Thee blind! xxxvThen to the Lip of this poor earthen UrnI leand, the Secret of my Life to learn: And Lip to Lip it murmurd — While you live,Drink! — for, once dead, you never shall *m % Wmm.
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