Edward Fitzgerald


Wake! For the Sun, who scatter”d into flight
‘The Stars before him from the Field of Night
Drives Night along with them from Heav’n, and strikes
.The Sultans Turret with a Shaft of Light


‘Before the phantom of False morning died
‘Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried
‘When all the Temple is prepared within
?Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside

And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted–Open then the Door!
‘You know how little while we have to stay
.And, once departed, may return no more




Look to the blowing Rose about us-;Lo
‘Laughing,; she says, into the world I blow,
At once the silken tassel of my Purse
Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw

‘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.

The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
‘Turns Ashes– or it prospers; and anon
‘Like Snow upon the Deserts dusty Face
.Lighting a little hour or two– is gone

Think, in this batter”d Caravanserai

‘Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day
How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp
.Abode his destined Hour, and went his way

They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
:The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep
And Bahram, that great Hunter– the Wild Ass
Stamps o er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.

I sometimes think that never blows so red
;The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled
That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
.Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head

And this reviving Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean
Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseenHand Of Moses on the Bough