Rubiyat

Awake! for the Morning in the Bowl of the Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:
And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.

I sometimes think that never blows so red
The rose as where some buried Caesar bled;

Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still the vine the ancient ruby yields
And still the garden by the water blows

Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse–and Thou
Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse–and Thou
Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse–and Thou