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A Concordance to Fitzgerald's Translation of the Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám ...
J. R. Tutin
Sin vista previa disponible - 2018
Angel blows Bowl break Clay closing cried Darkness Door Drink Dust Earth Fate Field fire Garden gone half hand Heav'n heed Hell hour Human Last lean leave Lift Light liii live look Love lvii lxii lxiv lxix lxvi lxvii lxxi lxxii lxxiv lxxv Moon Morning moves never Night once Paradise pass past Potter Preface rest rising Road rolling Rose round Shapes Sleep Soul Spring Stars strikes Sultán Tavern tell Thee thing Thou TO-DAY TO-MORROW Veil Vessel viii Vine Vintage wash whence Wine World xcii xciv xcix xlii xliii xliv xlix xlvi xlvii xvii xxii xxiv xxix xxvi xxxi xxxii xxxiv xxxix XXXV xxxviii
Página 134 - I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the Goods they sell. LXXII Alas, 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 154 - 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 91 - 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 136 - 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 164 - My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry: But fill me with the old familiar Juice, Methinks I might recover by and by.
Página 130 - When You and I behind the Veil are past, Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last, Which of our Coming and Departure heeds As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast.
Página 53 - Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore — but was I sober when I swore ? And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand My threadbare Penitence apieces tore.