A Concordance to Fitzgerald's Translation of the Rubʹaiyʹat of Omar KhayyʹamMacmillan & Company, 1900 - 172 páginas |
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Términos y frases comunes
Angel blows Bowl Bread beneath Caravan Caravanserai ciii Darkness discuss'd distant Drum Door Dust errand reach fire of Spring flaming shoulders half so precious Heav'n Hell invites your Soul Kaikobád liii Lip I kiss'd Lip you press little hour lovely Head lvii lxii lxiv lxix lxvi lxvii lxxi lxxii lxxiv lxxix lxxv ne'er a peevish OMAR KHAYYÁM once lovely pebble-cast peevish Boy Potter Predestination Preface Prophet's Paradise Ringdove Ruby Smoke of Hell take the Cash THEE Thou Throne of Saturn TO-DAY Veil Vessel viii Vine Vintage whence Wilderness is Paradise Wine xcii xciii xciv xcix xcvi xcvii xlii xliii xliv xlix xlvi xlvii xlviii 3 E xvii xxii xxiv xxix xxvi xxviii xxxi xxxii xxxiv xxxix XXXV
Pasajes populares
Página 149 - And those who husbanded the Golden grain, And those who flung it to the winds like Rain, Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd As, buried once, Men want dug up again.
Página 4 - A Hair perhaps divides the False and True Yes ; and a single Alif were the clue — Could you but find it — to the Treasure-house, And peradventure to THE MASTER too...
Página 140 - 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 TOMORROW stare, A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries, "Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There.
Página 56 - Yon rising Moon that looks for us again — How oft hereafter will she wax and wane; How oft hereafter rising look for us Through this same Garden — and for one in vain!
Página 89 - With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: And the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.
Página 126 - LXV If but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band Are in the Prophet's Paradise to stand, Alack, I doubt the Prophet's Paradise Were empty as the hollow of one's Hand.
Página 154 - My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry: But fill me with the old familiar Juice, Methinks I might recover by and by.
Página 148 - Listen — a moment listen ! — Of the same Poor Earth from which that Human Whisper came The luckless Mould in which Mankind was cast They did compose, and call'd him by the name.
Página 109 - Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose ! That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the branches sang, Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows...
Página 141 - So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, The little Moon look'd in that all were seeking: And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother! "Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking!