Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam Part 10

Lx.x.xII

The Vine had struck a fibre: which about If clings my being--let the Dervish flout; Of my Base metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without.

Lx.x.xIII

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.

Lx.x.xIV

What! out of senseless Nothing to provoke A conscious Something to resent the yoke Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke!

Lx.x.xV

What! from his helpless Creature be repaid Pure Gold for what he lent us dross-allay'd Sue for a Debt we never did contract, And cannot answer--Oh, the sorry trade!

Lx.x.xVI

Nay, but, for terror of his wrathful Face, I swear I will not call Injustice Grace; Not one Good Fellow of the Tavern but Would kick so poor a Coward from the place.

Lx.x.xVII

Oh, Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin Beset the Road I was to wander in, Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil round Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin!

Lx.x.xVIII

Oh, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake: For all the Sin the Face of wretched Man Is black with--Man's Forgiveness give--and take!

Lx.x.xIX

As under cover of departing Day Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazan away, Once more within the Potter's house alone I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay.

XC

And once again there gathered a scarce heard Whisper among them; as it were, the stirr'd Ashes of some all but extinguisht Tongue, Which mine ear kindled into living Word.

XCI

Said one among them--"Surely not in vain, My substance from the common Earth was ta'en, That He who subtly wrought me into Shape Should stamp me back to shapeless Earth again?"

XCII

Another said--"Why, ne'er a peevish Boy Would break the Cup from which he drank in Joy; Shall He that of His own free Fancy made The Vessel, in an after-rage destroy!"

XCIII

None answer'd this; but after silence spake Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make; "They sneer at me for leaning all awry; What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?"

XCIV

Thus with the Dead as with the Living, _What_?

And _Why_? so ready, but the _Wherefor_ not, One on a sudden peevishly exclaim'd, "Which is the Potter, pray, and which the Pot?"

XCV

Said one--"Folks of a surly Master tell, And daub his Visage with the Smoke of h.e.l.l; They talk of some sharp Trial of us--Pish!

He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well."

XCVI

"Well," said another, "Whoso will, let try, My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry: But fill me with the old familiar Juice, Methinks I might recover by-and-by!"

XCVII

So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, One spied the little Crescent all were seeking: And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother!

Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking!"

XCVIII

Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, And wash my Body whence the Life has died, And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf, By some not unfrequented Garden-side.

XCIX

Whither resorting from the vernal Heat Shall Old Acquaintance Old Acquaintance greet, Under the Branch that leans above the Wall To shed his Blossom over head and feet.

C

Then ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air, As not a True-believer pa.s.sing by But shall be overtaken unaware.