The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (Omar Khayyam Poem)
I. Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And ...
I. Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And ...
Make haste away, and let one be A friendly patron unto thee; Lest, rapt from hence, I see thee lie ...
Hapcot! To thee the Fairy State I with discretion, dedicate. Because thou prizest things that are Curious, and un-familiar. Take ...
I LATELY vowed to leave the nuns alone, So oft their freaks have in my page been shown. The subject ...
WHAT various ways in which a thing is told Some truth abuse, while others fiction hold; In stories we invention ...
NO easy matter 'tis to hold, Against its owner's will, the fleece Who troubled by the itching smart Of Cupid's ...
TO serve the shop as 'prentice was the lot; Of one who had the name of Nicaise got; A lad ...
IN Lombardy's fair land, in days of yore, Once dwelt a prince, of youthful charms, a store; Each FAIR, with ...
Through ev'ry Age some Tyrant Passion reigns: Now Love prevails, and now Ambition gains Reason's lost Throne, and sov'reign Rule ...
Saint Peter stood, at Heaven's gate, All souls claims to adjudicate Saying to some souls, "Enter in!" "Go to Hell," ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was ...
I tell thee, Dick, where I have been, Where I the rarest things have seen, O, things without compare! Such ...
The lone man gazed and gazed upon his gold, His sweat, his blood, the wage of weary days; But now ...
My worldly wealth I hoard in albums three, My life collection of rare postage stamps; My room is cold and ...
There are strange things done in the midnight sun By the men who moil for gold; The Arctic trails have ...
BEHOLD, as goblins dark of mien And portly tyrants dyed with crime Change, in the transformation scene, At Christmas, in ...
'Twas Saltbush Bill, with his travelling sheep, was making his way to town; He crossed them over the Hard Times ...
for every wind?'s emotionless blast brings shreds of feathers with their dance of loss rotating leaves of faded rainbow-trees and ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
Tom told his dog called Tim to beg, And up at once he sat, His two clear amber eyes fixed ...
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