The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, Jr.



He lets me have good tobacco, and he does not
Sophisticate it with sack-lees or oil,
Nor washes it in muscadel and grains,
Nor buries it in gravel underground,
Wrapped up in greasy leather or sour clouts;
But keeps it in fine lily-pots, that, opened,
Smell like conserve of roses or French beans.

Jonson. (The Alchemist.)



Therefore, O Love, because to all Life's plans
And projects some promotion thou impartest,
Thou still hast many zealous artisans,
Tho' not one artist.

Owen Meredith. (Marah.)



The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, Jr.



I