And if there be no meeting after death , — ' If all be silence , darkness yet tis rest. t Be not afraid , ye waiting hearts hat weep , ' ’ For God s will giveth his beloved sleep,

And if an endless sleep He wills so best.

HUXLEY.

C O N T E N T S

The F irst V ersion of the Rubaiyat

Life of by FitzGerald

Life of Edward FitzG era ld

A Note by N . H . Dole In Praise of Omar by "ohn Hay

V ocabul ary ' T o he o e z lree f m Om G t R s ro ar s rave, ’ pl an ted a t F i tzgerald s Alike from alien lips one music flows

To flush the Orient Rose , F a rz sundered spirits finding each in her ' His dream s interpreter .

"OHN B T A BB . T HE FIRST VERSION OF T HE RUBAIYAT

l

AWA KE "for Morning in the Bowl of 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.

Dreaming when Dawn ' s Left Hand was the Sky

I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry , t Awake , my Lit le ones , and fill the Cup ’ ’ Before Life s Liquor in its Cup be dry.

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.

Now the New Year reviving old Desires ,

The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires , Where the W HIT E HA ND or" M OSES on the Bough

Puts out , and Jesus from the ground suspires. A l THE FIRST VERSION

V

Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose , ’ ’ ' And Jamshyd s Sev n/ringd Cup where no one knows ;

But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,

And still a Garden by the Water blows.

' ' And David s Lips are lock t ; but in divine i ‘ " " High piping Pehlev , with Wine Wine Wine — R ed Wine " the Nightingale cries to the Rose

That yellow Cheek of hers to incarnadine .

Come , fill the Cup , and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling " The Bird of Time has but a little way — To fly and Lo "the Bird is on the Wing.

— And look a thousand Blossoms with the Day — ' Woke and a thousand sca tter d into Clay And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose Ka ik b Shall take Jamshyd and o éd away . OF T HE RUBAIYAT IX

But come with old Khayyam , and leave Lot Of Ka ik obéd and Ka ikhosruforgot

Let Rustum lay about him as he will , — Or Hatim Tai cry Supper h eed them not.

With me along some Strip of Herbage strown

That just divides the desert from the sown , Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce is

known ,

And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne .

Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough , A — Flask of Wine , a Book of Verse and Thou B eside me singing in the Wilderness

And Wilderness is Paradise enow .

How sweet is mortal Sovranty "—think some Others How blest the Paradise to come A h ta ke , the Cash in hand and waive the Rest ; dis ta n t " Oh , the brave Music of a Drum THE FIRST VERSION XIII

u Look to the Rose that blows about s 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.

The Worldly—Hope men set their Hearts upon or Turns Ashes it prospers ; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert ' s dusty Face — Lighting a little Hour or two is gone .

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.

' ba tter d Think , in this Caravanserai Whose Doorways are alternate Night and

Day, How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp

Abode his Hour or two , and went his way. 4 op T HE RUBAIYAT

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 , and he lies fast asleep.

XV III I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled ; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears

Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head .

And this delightful Herb whos e tender Green Fledges the River ' s Lip on which we lean

Ah , lean upon it lightly "for who knows From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen "

’ Ah , my Beloved , fill the Cup that clears TOD AY of past Regrets and future Fears — oz morro w l / T Why , To morrow I may be Myself with Yesterday ' s Sev ' n Thousand

Years. THE FIRST VERSION

" Lo some we loved , the loveliest and best ll That Time and Fate of a their Vintage prest, u Have dr nk their Cup a Round or two before ,

And one by one crept silently to Rest.

And we , that now make merry in the Room

They left , and Summer dresses in new Bloom , Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth — Descend , ourselves to make a Couch for whom ?

Ah , make the most of what we yet may spend , Before we too into the Dust descend ; u D st into Dust , and under Dust , to lie, — Sans Wine , sans Song , sans Singer , and sans End

Alik e for those who for TO DAY prepare , r And those that after a TO MORROW sta e , A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries ‘ Fools " your Reward is neither Here nor There 6 OF T HE RUBAIYAT

' discus Why , a ll the Saints and Sages who s d

Of the two Worlds so learnedly , are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth ; their Words to Scorn ' sca tter d Are . and their Mouths are stopt with

Dust .

’ Oh , come with old Khayyam , and leave the Wise

To talk ; one thing is certain , that Life flies ;

One thing is certain , and the Rest is Lies ;

The Flower th at once has blown for ever dies.

Myself when young did eagerly frequent

Doctor and Saint , and heard great Argument About it and about ; but evermore

Came out by the same Door as in I went.

XXV III

With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow , ' And with my own hand labour d it to grow ; ' And this was all the Harvest that I reap d ‘ ’ I came like Water, and like Wind I go . THE FIRST VERSION XXIX

W Into this Universe, and h y not knowing,

w u Nor h en c e, like Water willy nilly flowing

And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,

W hith e / I know not r, willy nilly blowing.

7 What , without asking, hither hurried whence W hi h er " And , without asking, t hurried hence Another and another Cup to drown The Memory of this Impertinence "

XXXI Up from Earth' s Centre through the Seventh Gate

I rose , and on the Throne of Saturn sate , ' And many Knots unra vel d by the Road ;

But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate.

XXXII There was a Door to which I found no Key There was a Veil past which I could not see ; Some little Talk awhile of M E and THEE ’ — There seem d and then no more of THEE and M E 8 OF T HE RUBAIYAT

XX XM

' Heav n Then to the rolling itself I cried , ‘ Asking , What Lamp had Destiny to guide Her little Children stumbling in the Dark I —‘ ' And A blind Understanding "Hea v n replied .

XX X“f Then to this earthen Bowl did I adjourn My Lip the secret Well of Life to learn ; ' —‘ And Lip to Lip it murmur d While you live — ’ Drink for once dead you never shall return .

XXXV

I think the Vessel , that with fugitive ' a nsw er d Articulation , once did live , ’ And merry/make "and the cold Lip I kiss d How many Kisses might it take—and give "

XXXV I

/ For in the Market place, one Dusk of Day, ' I wa tch d the Potter thumping his wet Clay And with its all obliterated Tongue ' murmur d It Gently , Brother , gently, pray

XXXV H — Ah , fill the Cup what boots it to repeat How Time is slipping underneath our Feet O MORROW ST RDA Y Unborn T , and dead YE E , Why fret about them if TO DAY be sweet " 9 THE FIRST VERSION

' One Moment in Annihilation s Waste,

One Moment , of the Well of Life to taste The Stars are setting and the Caravan — Starts for the Dawn of Nothing Oh , make haste "

XXXIX

How long, how long, in infinite Pursuit Of This and That endeavour and dispute ? Better be merry with the fruitful Grape

Than sadden after none , or bitter , Fruit.

You know, my Friends , how long since in my House For a new Marriage I did make Carouse

Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed ,

And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse .

‘ ‘ ' For Is and Is. NOT though wi th Rule Line ‘ . . w t t And UP A ND DOWN i ho u , I could define , I yet in all I only cared to kno—w , Was never deep in anything but Wine . 10

THE FIRST VERSION

XLV I

For in and out , above , about , below , ' T is Shadowz h w nothing but a Magic s o , ' Pla d y in a Box whose Candle is the Sun,

Round which we Phantom Figures come and go .

XLV II

And if the Wine you drink , the Lip you press , — End in the Nothing all Things end in Yes

Then fancy while Thou art , Thou art but what — — Thou shalt b e Nothing Thou shalt not be

less.

XLVI II

While the Rose blows along the River Brink , With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink And when the A ngel with his darker Draught — i . Draws up to Thee take that , and do not shr nk

XLIX

' Tis all a C hequerz b oa rd of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays

Hither and thither moves , and mates , and

slays ,

And one by one back in the Closet lays . 12 OF T HE RUBAIYAT

I.

The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes , But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes ’ d And He that toss Thee down into the Field , — — H e knows about it all HE knows HE knows "

I. I

The Moving Finger writes ; and , having writ , Moves on ; nor all thy Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line ,

Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it .

LII

And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky , ' Whereunder crawling C oop t we li—ve and Lift not thy hands to I t for help for It

Rolls impotently on as Thou or I .

I. III With Earth' s first Clay They did the Last Man' s

knead , ' And then of the Last Harvest sow d the Seed

Yea , the first Morning of Creation wrote

What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read .

"/ I. I — I tell Thee this When , starting from the Goal , Over the shoulders of the flaming Foal ' Heav n M ushtara Of Parwin and they flung, In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul 13 THE FIRST VERSION

LV

The Vine had struck a Fibre ; which about — If clings my Being let the Sufi flout ;

Of my Base Metal may be filed a Key,

That shall unlock the Door he howls without ,

h ; And t is I know whether the one True Light,

Kindle to Love , or Wrath consume me quite , One glimpse of It within the Tavern caught

Better than in the Temple lost outright .

t Oh Thou , who didst with Pi fall and with Gin

Beset the Road I was to wander in , Thou wilt not with Predestination round ? Enmesh me , and impute my Fall to Sin

Oh , Thou , who Man of baser Earth didst make , And who with Eden didst devise the Snake ; For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man ’ ' — " Is bla cken d, Man s Forgiveness give and take

14 OR T HE RUBAIYAT

KUZA N AMA LIX

Listen again . One evening at the Close

Of Ramazan , ere the better Moon arose , In that old Potter' s Shop I stood alone

With the clay Population round in Rows .

n And , stra ge to tell , among that Earthen Lot

Some could articulate , while others not And suddenly one more impatient cried ‘ s Who i the Potter, pray, and who the Pot

Then said another Surely not in vain My Substance from the common Earth was ' ta en , That He who subtly wrought me into Shape ’ Should stamp me back to common Earth again .

' Another said Why , ne er a peevish Boy, Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy Shall He that m a d e the Vessel in pure Love t And Fancy, in an af er Rage destroy 1 5 THE FIRST VERSION

LXIII

' None a nswer d this but after Silence spake A Vessel of a more ungainly Make ‘ They sneer at me for leaning all awry ; What "did the Hand then of the Potter shake

LXIV

Said one Folks of a surly Tapster tell , And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell ; They talk of some strict Testing of us Pish " ' ' ’ He s a Good Fellow , and twill all be well.

lon /dra wn Then said another with a g Sigh , ‘ My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry "

But , fill me with the old familiar Juice , Methinks I might recover byz a ndubye

LXV I So while the Vessels one by one were

speaking , One spied the little Crescent all were seeking ' ‘ o d And then they i gg each other , Brother , Brother " ' Hark to the Porter s Shoulder / knot a n creaking "

16 OE T HE RUBAIYAT

LXV II

Ah . with the Grape my fading Life provide ,

And wash my Body whence the Life has died ,

W V in /leaf And in a indingsheet of e wrapt,

So bury me by some sweet Garden/side .

LXV III That ev ' n my buried Ashes such a Snare

Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air , As not a True Believer passing by

But shall be overtaken unaware .

Indeed the Idols I have loved so long Have done my Credit in Men' s Eye much wrong " Have drown’ d my Honour in a shallow

Cup ,

And sold my Reputation for a Song.

Indeed , —indeed , Repentance oft before I swore but was I sober when I swore ?

And then and then came Spring, and Rose r

in/ha nd

/ My thread bare Penitence apieces tore . B 17 THE FIRST VERSION

' la d And much as Wine has p y the Infidel , ' robb d — And me of my Robe of Honour well , I often wonder what the Vintners buy e One half so precious as th Goods they sell .

LXXII

Alas , that Spring should vanish with the Rose " ' That Youth s sweet/ scented Manuscript should close " i The Night ngale that in the Branches sang ,

Ah , whence , and whither flown again , who knows "

LXXIII Ah Love "could thou and I with Fate conspire

To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire , Would not we shatter it to bits—and then ' Rez mould it nearer to the Heart s Desire "

' i know st Ah , Moon of my Del ght who no

wane , ' The Moon of Hea v n is rising once again ; How oft hereafter rising shall she look — Through this same Garden after me in vain " 18

The Silence thrills to sound a mournful strain

Of music throbs across the sea of years ,

And bears thy story , Omar , to our ears ; Of prayers the mocking skies hurled back again Of hands stretched out to Heaven for help in vain Of dull despair which neither hopes nor fears Grief that has learned the uselessness of tears

And bitter calm of weariness and pain .

A human heart speaks to us from the Past, i n From the vast St llness , in whose unk own deep

We too so soon must plunge and seek for rest .

Hath Peace , my Brother , come to thee at last m ? The perfect Peace of quiet , drea less sleep

Sleep on "for , surely , dreamless sleep is best.

W T ROOSEV ELT . 1 . E S A L I F E O F

OM A R K H A Y Y AM

EDWARD F ITZGERALD

MAR KHAYYAM was born at N a ishapur in Khorassan in

the latter half of our Eleventh , and died within the First Quarter of our Twelfth Cenu

tury . The slender Story of hi s Life is curiously twined about that of two other very considerable Figures in their Time and Country " one of whom tells the Story of all ul V i Three . This was Nizam Mulk, zyr to

Alp Arslan the Son , and Malik Shah the T o h ul Grandson , of g r Beg the Tartar , who had wrested Persia from the feeble Successor of h Ma mud the Great , and founded that Seljukian Dynasty which finally roused Europe into the u . s a l , Wa siya t —Crusades Thi —Niz m Mulk in his or T e s ta m ent which he wrote and left as a Memorial for future Statesmen—relates the C a l tta following , as quoted in the c u R e view, 2 1 A LIFE OF

' No . lix . , from Mirkhond s His tory of the

A ssa ssins. “ One of the greatest of the wise men of Khorassan was the Imam M owaffak of Na ishé / pur , a man highly honoured and reverenced may God reioice his soul ; his illustrious years

i ht / iv exceeded e g y f e, and it was the universal belief that every boy who read the Koran or

studied the traditions in his presence, would

assuredly attain to honour and happiness. For this cause did my father send me from Tus to

Na ishé ur A bd/usz sa mad p with , the doctor of

law, that I might employ myself in study and learning under the guidance of that illustrious

teacher . Towards me he ever turned an eye I felt of favour and kindness , and as his pupil

for him extreme affection and devotion , so that

I passed four years in his service . When I

first came there, I found two other pupils of

mine own age newly arrived , Hakim Omar

/ Khayyam , and the ill fated Ben Sabbah . Both were endowed with sharpness of wit and the highest natural powers ; and we three formed

a close friendship together . When the Imam

rose from his lectures , they used to foin me, and we repeated to each other the lessons we had Of Na ishé ur heard. Now Omar was a native p , a ' while Hasan Ben Sabb h s father was one Ali , a

man of austere life and practice, but heretical in 22 OMAR KHAYYAM his creed and doctrine. One day Hasan said to me and to Khayyam , It is a universal belief that the pupils of the Imam Mowaffa k will attain a ll to fortune. Now, even if we do not attain thereto , without doubt one of us will ; what then shall be our mutual pledge and bond ?’ ’ ‘ ’ We answered , Be it what you please . Well , ‘ whomso z he sa id , let us make a vow , that to ever this fortune falls , he shall share it equally

a min nce with the rest , and reserve no pre e e for ' ’ i . h mself Be it so , we both replied , and on those terms we mutually pledged our words. l Years rol ed on , and I went from Khorassan to T ra nsoxia na , and wandered to Ghazni and

Cabul ; and when I returned , I was invested t with office , and rose to be adminis rator of affairs during the Sultanate of Sultan Alp " Arslan . ‘ He goes on to state, that years passed by ,

/ and both his old school friends found him out , and came and claimed a share in his good

/ fortune, according to the school day vow . The

Vizier was generous and kept his word . m Hasan demanded a place in the govern ent , ' which the Sultan granted at the Vizier s ref quest ; but , discontented with a gradual rise, he plunged into the maze of intrigue of an Oriental

Court, and , failing in a base attempt to supplant his l . benefactor , he was disgraced and fel After 2 3 A LIFE OF many mishaps and wanderings, Hasan be came the s i head of the Persian sect of the I ma lia ns , a party of fanatics who had long murmured in obscurity, but rose to an evil eminence under the guidance of his strong and evil will . In A D 1090 , he seized the castle of Alamut , in the

/ province of Rudbar , which lies in the moun ta inous tract south of the Caspian Sea ; and it was from this mountain home he obtained that evil celebrity among the Crusaders as the OLD

MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS, and spread terror through the Mohammedan world ; and it is yet disputed whether the word A ss a ssin, which they have left in the language of modern is Europe as their dark memorial , derived from

ish hem z leaves the h a sh , or opiate of p (the W Indian bha ng) , ith which they maddened themselves to the sullen pitch of Oriental desperation , or from the name of the founder of the dynasty, whom we have seen in his

N a i é ur. quiet collegiate days , at sh p One of the countless victims of the Assassin' s dagger was

/ Nizam ul Mulk himself, the old school boy 1 friend . Omar Khayyam also came to the Vizier to 1 Some of Omar' s Rubaiyat warn us of the danger of

a Greatness , the instability of F ortune , and while a d vo n cating Charity to all M e , recommending us to be too intimate with none . Attar makes Nizém ul Mulk use 24 OMAR KH AYYAM claim his share ; but not to ask for title or office . " The greatest boon you can confer on me , he said , is to let me live in a corner under the shadow of your fortune, to spread wide the f r advantages of Science , and pray o your long " life and prosperity . The Vizier tells us , that , when he found Omar was really sincere in his refusal , he pressed him no further , but granted t él s him a yearly pension of 1200 mi hk of gold ,

’ a from the treasury of N a ish pur. At N a ishépur thus lived and died Omar ’ " Khayyam , busied , adds the Vizier , in

a winning knowledge of every kind , and especi ally in Astronomy , wherein he attained to a

/ very high pre eminence . Under the Sultanate of Malik Shah , he came to Merv, and obtained great praise for his proficiency in science , and " the Sultan showered favours upon him . ‘ When Malik Shah determined to reform the calendar , Omar was one of the eight learned men employed to do it ; the result was the ja léli era (so called from one ' " of the king s names) a computation of time , “ says Gibbon , which surpasses the Julian, and approaches the accuracy of the Gregorian

‘ the very words of his friend Omar [Rub . When N a uI M A iz m ulk was in the gony (of Death) he said , Oh G od " I am passing away in the hand of the “ Wind . 2 5 A LIFE OF style . He is also the author of some “ ’ i i/M al astronomical tables, entitled Z i iksh and the French have lately republished and translated an Arabic Treatise of his on

Algebra . ‘ His T akhallus or poetical name (Khayyam) signifies a Tentmaker, and he is said to have at one time exercised that trade, perhaps before ' Nizam ul Mulk s generosity raised him to independence . Many Persian poets similarly derive their names from their occupations ; " " thus we have Attar, a druggist , Assar , “ " 1 f il . an o presser , etc Omar himsel alludes to his name in the following whimsical lines

Khayyam , who stitched the tents of science , Has fallen in grief ' s furnace and been suddenly burned ;

The shears of F ate have cut the tent ropes of his life , And the broker of Hope has sol d him for nothi ng ‘ We have only one more anecdote to give i of his L fe , and that relates to the close ; it is told in the anonymous preface which is some; times prefixed to his poems ; it has been printed in the Persian in the Appendix to ' l i Hyde s V e ter um P ersa r um R e ig o, p. 49 9

1 Though all these , lik e our Smiths , Archers, Millers, th e Fletchers , etc . , may simply retain Surname of an here ditary calling . 26

A LIFE OF i after , when I chanced to revisit Na shapur, l

/ went to his final resting place, and lo "it was just outside a garden , and trees laden with fruit stretched their boughs over the garden wall , and dropped their flowers upon his tomb , so that the stone was hidden under them"" l Thus far without fear of Trespass—from

C a l c utta e vi w. the R e The writer of it , on ' reading in India this story of Omar s Grave , ' was reminded , he says , of Cicero s Account of ' finding Archimedes Tomb at Syracuse , buried in grass and weeds . I think Thorwaldsen desired to have roses grow over him ; a wish religiously fulfilled for him to the present day I believe . However , to return to Omar. ‘ ' Though the Sultan shower d Favours upon ’ ' him , Omar s Epicurean Audacity of Thought and Speech caused him to be regarded askance in his own Time and Country . He is said to the parish in which I live when in London . I was made to repeat it several times over till they could prou “ " nounce it ; and then Stepney M arai no T oote was

, echoed through an hundred mouths at once . I after wards found the same question had been put to

M r Forster by a man on shore ; but he gave a different, d o and indee more proper answer, by saying , N man who used the sea could say where he should be " burie d . 2 8 OMAR KHAYYAM have been especially hated and dreaded by the tif S is , whose Practice he ridiculed , and whose

Faith amounts to little more than his own , when stript of the Mysticism and formal recognition of Islamism under which Omar would not hide . Their Poets , including Hafiz , who are (with the exception of Firdausi) the most considerable in Persia , borrowed largely , ' indeed , of Omar s material , but turning it to a mystical Use more convenient to Themselves and the People they addressed ; a People quite as quick of Doubt as of B elief ; as keen of Bodily Sense as of Intellectual ; and delighting in a cloudy composition of both , in which they could float luxuriously between Heaven and

Earth , and this World and the Next , on the wings of a poetical expression , that might serve indifferently for either . Omar was too honest of Heart as well as of Head for this . Having failed (however mistakenly) of finding any Providence but Destiny , and any World n the but This , he set about maki g most of it ; preferring rather to soothe the Soul through the Senses into Acquiescence with Things as he saw them , than to perplex it with vain i i d squietude after what they m gh t be . It has been seen , however, that his Worldly Ambition was not exorbitant ; and he very likely takes a humorous or perverse pleasure in exalting the 2 9 A LIFE OF

the gratification of Sense above that of Intellect, in which he must have taken great delight, although it failed to answer the Questions in which he , in common with all men , was most vitally interested . R For whatever eason, however , Omar , as before said , has never been popular in his r own Count y , and therefore has been but scantily transmitted abroad . The MSS . of his Poems , mutilated beyond the average

Casualties of Oriental Transcription , are so rare in the East as scarce to have reached

Westward at all , in spite of all the acquisitions of Arms and Science . There is no copy at the India House , none at the Bibliotheque

Nationale of Paris . We know of but one in

England " No . 140 of the Ouseley MSS . at the

146 0. Bodleian , written at , A D. This contains but 158 Rubaiyat. One in the Asiatic Society ' s Library at Calcutta (of which we have a Copy) contains (and yet incomplete)

516 , though swelled to that by all kinds of

Repetition and Corruption. So Von Hammer is speaks of h Copy as containing about 200, while Dr Sprenger catalogues th e L ucknow 1 MS . at double that number. The Scribes ,

Since this Paper was written ( adds the Reviewer ‘ in a note) , we have met with a Copy of a very rare

Edition , printe d at Calcutta in 183 6 . This contains 3 0 OMA R KHAYYAM too , of the Oxford and Calcutta MSS . seem to do their Work under a sort of Protest ; each beginning with a Tetrastich (whether genuine or not) , taken out of its alphabetical order ; the Oxford with one of Apology the Calcutta with one of Expostulation , supposed (says a

Notice prefixed to the MS . ) to have arisen ' from a Dream , in which Omar s mother asked about his future fate . It may be rendered thus

' Oh Thou who b urn st in Heart for those who burn sha ll In Hell , whose fires thyself feed in turn ; “ M d How long be crying , ercy on them , Go "

Why , who art Thou to teach , and He to learn The Bodleian pleads Pantheism by way of Justification . If I myself upon a looser Creed

Have loosely strung the "ewel of Good dee d , L et this one thing for my Atonement plead That One for Two I never did miS r rea dfl

1 The Reviewer, to whom I owe the ' Particulars of Omar s life , concludes his

Review by comparing him with Lucretius , both as to natural Temper and Genius , and as acted upon by the Circumstances in which 43 8 Tetrastichs , with an Appendix containing 54 ’ others not found in some M SS . 1 Professor Cowell . 3 1 A LIFE OF he lived . Both indeed were men of subtle , strong , and cultivated Intellect , fine Imagina/ tion, and Hearts passionate for Truth and Justice ; who justly revolted from their t ' Coun ry s false Religion , and false , or foolish , Devotion to it ; but who fell short of replacing what they subverted by such better H ope as others , with no better Revelation to guide them, had yet made a Law to themselves .

Lucretius , indeed , with such material as

Epicurus furnished , satisfied himself with the theory of a vast machine fortuitously constructed , and acting by a Law that implied no Legislator ; and so composing himself into a Stoical rather than Epicurean severity of

" Attitude , sat down to contemplate the me cha nica l Drama of the Universe which he was part Actor in ; himself and all about him (as in his own sublime description of the Roman Theatre) discoloured with the lurid reflex of the Curtain suspended between the

Spectator and the Sun . Omar , more desperate , or more careless of any so complicated System as resulted in nothing but hopeless Necessity , flung his own Genius and Learning with a bitter or humorous jest into the general Ruin which their insufficient glimpses only served to reveal ; and , pretending sensual pleasure as the serious purpose of Life , only di ver ted 3 2 OMAR KH AYYAM himself with speculative problems of Deity ,

Destiny , Matter and Spirit, Good and Evil , and other such questions , easier to star t than to run down , and the pursuit of which becomes a very weary sport at last " th With regard to e present .

The original Rubaiyat (as , missing an Arabic e tra s tic s Guttural , these T h are more musically n called) are independent Stanzas , consisti g each of four Lines of equal , though varied , a ll Prosody ; sometimes rhyming , but oftener

(as here imitated) the third line a blank .

Somewhat as in the Greek Alcaic , where the penultimate line seems to lift and suspend the u Wave that falls over in the last. As us al with such kind of Oriental Verse , the a a l Rub iy t fol ow on—e another according to Alphabetic Rhyme a strange succession of

Grave and Gay . Those here selected are str ung into something of an Eclogue , with perhaps a less than equal proportion of the ‘ ’ ma keumerr Drink and y, which (genuine or

/ not) recurs over frequently in the Original .

Either way , th e Result is sad enough saddest perhaps when most ostentatiously merry " more apt to move Sorrow than

Anger toward the old Tentmaker , who , after vainly endeavouring to unshackle his Steps from Destiny , and to catch some authentic C 3 3 A LIFE OF OM AR KHAYYAM

i OM ORR OW OD AY Gl mpse of T . fell back upon T (whi ch has outlasted so many To/morrows the G as only round he had got to stand upon , however momentarily slipping from under his Feet.

3 4

LIFE OF some years of primary education at the grammar school of Bury St Edmunds , he n 18 entered Tri ity College , Cambridge , in 2 6 , and there formed acquaintance with several young men of great abilities , most of whom rose to distinction before him , but never ceased to regard with affectionate rememn brance the quiet and amiable associate of

l / their col ege days. Amongst them were S eddin Alfred Tennyson , James p g, William

Bodham Donne , John Mitchell Kemble, and William Makepeace Thackeray ; and their long friendship has been touchingly referred to by the Laureate in dedicating his last Fit poem to the memory of Edward zG era ld. ‘ ’ ' E uphra nor, our author s earliest printed

h / work , affords a curious picture of is aca demic life and associations . Its substantial reality is evident beneath the thin disguise of the symbolical or classical names which he gives to the personages of the colloquy ; and the speeches which he puts into his own mouth are full of the humorous gravity , the whimsical and kindly philosophy , which remained his distinguishing characteristics till the end . This book was first published in 18 51 ; a second and a third edition were printed some years later ; all anonymous , and each of the latter two differing from its pref 3 6 EDWARD FITZGERALD decessor by changes in the text which were

l / not indicated on the tit e pa ges. ‘ ' Euphra nor furnishes a good many char; a cterisa tions which would be useful for any writer treating upon Cambridge society in the third decade of this century. Kenelm Digby, ‘ ’ the author of the Broadstone of Honour , had left Cambridge before the time when Euphw ‘ ’ r or a n held his dialogue , but he is picturesquely recollected as ‘ a grand swarthy fellow who might have stepped out of the canvas of some knightly portrait in his father ' s hall—perhaps the living image of one sleeping under some ’ c u ross legged effxgi es in the church . In ‘ ’ Eu hra nor p , it is easy to discover the earliest phase of the unconquerable attach; ment which FitzG era ld entertained for his

i / college and his l fe long friends , and which induced him in later days to make frequent visits to Cambridge , renewing and refreshing the old ties of custom and friendship. In fact, his disposition was affectionate to a fault , and he betrayed his consciousness of weakness in that respect by referring playfully at times to ‘ ' a certain natural lubricity which he a ttri/ buted to the Irish character , and professed to discover especially in himself. This amiability of temper endeared him to many friends of l tota ly dissimilar tastes and qualities ; and , by 3 7 LIFE OF enlarging his sympathies , enabled him to enjoy the fructifying influence of studies pursued in communion with scholars more t profound than himself, but less gif ed with the power of expression. One of the younger Cambridge men with whom he became inti / mate during his periodical pilgrimages to the e univ rsity , was Edward B . Cowell , a man of

the highest attainment in Oriental learning , who resembled Fitz G erald himself in the

possession of a warm and genial heart , and

the most unobtrusive modesty . From Cowell he could easily learn that the hypothetical affinity between the names of Erin and belonged to an obsolete stage of etymology ; but the attraction of a far z fetched theory was replaced by the charm of reading Persian in companionship

with his young friend , who was equally competent to enjoy and to analyse the beauties of a literature that formed a portion

of his regular studies. They read together — the poetical remains of Khayyam a choice of reading which sufficiently indicates the ' depth and range of Mr Cowell s knowledge .

Omar Khayyam , although not quite forgotten , enjoyed in the history of a celebrity like that of Occleve and Gower in ’ ’ a la ra t our own. In the many T z (memoirs 3 8 EDWARD FITZGERALD or memorials) of Poets , he was mentioned

o and qu ted with esteem ; but his poems , labouring as they did under the original sin of heresy and atheism , were seldom looked at , and from lack of demand on the part of readers , had become rarer than those of most other writers since the days of Firdausi . European scholars knew little of his works beyond his Arabic treatise on Algebra , and Mr Cowell may be said to have disentombed his poems from oblivion . Now, thanks to the tr n fine taste of that scholar , and to the a ns Fit G era ld muting genius of z , no Persian poet is so well known in the western world as ' ' ' un l/ t h / A b fa Omar , son of Ibrahim the Tent

N a isha ur z maker of p , whose manhood syn chronises W ith the Norman conquest of

England , and who took for his poetic name ' ( ta kh a ll us ) the designation of his father s ' Kh a é é " trade ( ayy m) . The R ub iyy t (Quat rains) do not compose a single poem divided into a certain number of stanzas ; there is no t continui y of plan in them , and each stanza is a distinct thought expressed in musical verse . There is no other element of unity in them than the general tendency of the Epicurean r idea , and the arbit ary divan form by which they are grouped according to the alphabetical arrangement of the final letters ; those in 3 9 LIFE OF which the rhymes end in a constituting the b first division , those with the second , and so on . The peculiar attitude towards religion and the old questions of fate , immortality , the origin and the destiny of man , which educated thinkers have assumed in the present

z age of Christendom , is found admirably fore shadowed in the fantastic verses of Khayyam , who was no more of a Mohammedan than many of our best writers are Christi—ans . His philosophica l and Horatian fancies graced as they are by the charms of a lyrical expression l equal to that of , and a vivid bril iance of imagination to which the Roman poet could make no claim—exercised a powerful influence ' upon Fitz G erald s mind , and coloured his thoughts to such a degree that even when he oversteps the largest licence allowed to a translator , his phrases reproduce the spirit and manner of his original with a nearer approach to perfection than would appear possible . It is usually supposed that there is more of FitzG era ld than of Khayyam in the é ' é English R ub iyy t, and that the simply afforded themes for the A ngIOf Irishn ' man s display of poetic power ; but nothing could be further from the truth . The French N translator , J . B . icolas , and the English one ,

Mr Whinfield, supply a closer mechanical 40 EDWARD FITZGERALD reflection of the sense in each separate stanza ; Fitz G era ld but Mr has , in some instances , given a version equally close and exact ; in re ointed others , j scattered phrases from more ori ina l than one stanza of his g , and thus accomplished a feat of marvellous poetical transfusion . He frequently turns literally into English the strange outlandish imagery which Mr Whinfield thought necessary to replace by more intelligible banalities , and in this way the magic of his genius has success/ fully transplanted into the garden of English poesy exotics that bloom like native flowers . ' One of Mr FitzG era ld s Woodbridge friends was Bernard Barton , the Quaker poet , with whom he maintained for many years the most intimate and cordial intercourse , and whose daughter Lucy he married . He wrote the memoir of his friend ' s life which appeared in ' the posthumous volume of Barton s poems .

The story of his married life was a short one . With all the overflowing amiability of his nature , there were mingled certain peculiarities or waywardnesses which were more suitable to the freedom of celibacy than to the staidness of matrimonial life . A separation took place mutua l F i zG era ld by agreement , and t behaved in this circumstance with the generosity and unselfishness which were apparent in all his 41 LIFE OF whims no less than in his more deliberate his actions . Indeed , entire career was marked by an unchanging goodness of heart and a genial kindliness ; and no one could complain of having ever endured hurt or ill/ treatment at his hands . His pleasures were innocent and simple . Amongst the more delightful , b e counted the short coasting trips , occupying no more than a day or two at a time, which he a used to m ke in his own yacht from Lowestoft , accompanied only by a crew of two men , and such a friend as Cowell , with a large pasty and a few bottles of wine to supply their material wants . It is needless to say that books were also put into the cabin , and that the symposia of the friends were thus brightened by com/ munion with the minds of the great departed . ' FitzG erald s enjoyment of gnomic wisdom enshrined in words of exquisite propriety was evinced by the frequency with which he used to read Montaigne' s essays and Madame de ’ e' Sevign s letters, and the various works from which he extracted and published his collection ‘ ’ of wise saws entitled Polonius. This taste was allied to a love for what was classical and correct in literature , by which he was also enabled to appreciate the prim and formal muse ' of Crabbe, in whose grandson s house he died . ‘ ’ His second printed work was the Polonius , 42

LIFE OF also marks the period of his earliest attenti on u to Persian studies , as he q otes in it the great Sufi poet whose m a sna vi has lately been translated into English by Mr Fi Gerald can Redhouse , but whom tz only have l seen in the original . He , however , spel s the a d name ]a ll a l i n, an incorrect form of which he could not have been guilty at the time when u u he prod ced Omar Khayyam , and which th s betrays that he had not long been engaged with Irani literature. He was very fond of ' ' é Montaigne s essays , and of Pascal s Pens es ; but his ‘ Polonius ' reveals a sort of dislike and contempt for Voltaire . Amongst the Germans ,

Jean Paul , Goethe , Alexander von Humboldt, and August Wilhelm von Schlegel attracted t him greatly, but he seems to have read lit le

n . German , and probably o ly quoted His favourite motto was ‘ Plain Livin g and ’ / High Thinking , and he expresses great rever

ence for all thi ngs manl y, simple , and true .

The laws and institutions of England were , in th his eyes , of e highest value and sacredness ; and whatever Irish sympathies he had would never have diverted his affections from the

z Union to Home Rule . This is strongly illus

negotiator between M r Squire and Carlyle , and that hi s correspondence with the latter upon the subject reveals

the intimate nature of their acquaintance . 44 EDWARD FITZGERALD tra ted by some original lines of blank verse at ‘ ’ the end of Polonius , annexed to his quotation , ‘ ’ fE s he ic under t t s, of the words in which Lord Palmerston eulogised Mr Gladstone for having devoted his Neapolitan tour to an inf spection of the prisons . ' FitzG era ld s next printed work was a trans " lation of Six Dramas of Calderon , published in 5 18 3 , which was unfavourably received at the

time, and consequently withdrawn by him from circ—ulation . His name appeared on the title/ page a concession to publicity which was so unusual with him that it must have been

made under strong pressure from his friends .

The book is in nervous blank verse , a mode of composition which he handled with great ease

and skill . There is no waste of power in diffuseness and no employment of unnecesz

sary epithets . It gives the impression of a

work of the Shakespearean age , and reveals a

kindred felicity , strength , and directness of

la nguage . It deserves to rank with his best

ill/ succe s efforts in poetry , but its s made him feel that the publication of his name was an

unfavourable experiment , and he never again

repeated it. His great modesty , however , would

sufficiently account for this shyness. Of ‘ ’ ’ Omar Khayyam , even after the little book

had won its way to general esteem , he used to 45 LIFE OF say that the suggested addition of his name on the title would imply an assumption of import. ‘ ance which he considered that his tra nsmogri u ' fica tion of the Persian poet did not possess . ' ' Fitz G erald s conception of a translator s privilege is well set forth in the prefaces of his versions from Calderon , and th e

Agamemnon of fEschylus. He maintained e that, in the absence of the p rfect poet , who shall rez crea te in his own language the body l and soul of his origina , the best system is that of a paraphrase conserving the spirit of —a the author , sort of literary metempsychosis . fEsch lus Calderon , y , and Omar Khayyam were all treated with equal licence , so far as — form is concerned , the last, perhaps , the most arbitrarily ; but the result is not ( "I f satisfactory as having given us perfect English po ems instinct with the true flavour of their prototypes . The Persian was probably some/ what more Horatian and less melancholy , the

Greek a little less florid and mystic , the

Spaniard more lyrical and fluent , than their metaphrast has made them ; but the e ssential spirit has not escaped in transfusion . Only a man of singular gifts could have performed the achievement, and these works attest Mr ' Fitz G era ld s right to rank amongst the finest poets of the century. About the same time 46 EDWARD FITZGERALD as he printed his Calderon , another set of translations from the same dramatist was

l . a a rth pub ished by the late D F. M cC y, a scholar whose acquaintance with Castilian literature was much deeper than Mr F itza ' Gerald s , and who also possessed poetical abilities of no mean order , with a totally ' different sense of the translator s duty . The ' popularity of M a cC a rthy s versions has been considerable , and as an equivalent rendering of the original in sense and form his work is valuable . Spaniards familiar with the English language rate its merits highly ; but there can be little question of the very great superiority ' of Mr Fitz G era ld s work as a contribution to

English literature . It is indeed only from this point of view that we should regard all the literary labours of our author . They are n E glish poetical work of fine quality , dashed with a pl e asant outlandish flavour which heightens their charm ; and it is as English poems , not as translations , that they have endeared themselves even mo re to the American English than to the mixed Britons of England . It was an o ccasion of no small moment to ' Fitz G era ld s Mr fame , and to the intellectual gratification of many thousands of readers , ' ’ when he took his littl e packet of R ubé iyya t 47 LIFE OF to Mr Q uaritch in the latter part of the year

18 58 . It was printed as a small quarto ' pamphlet, bearing the publisher s name but ' not the author s ; and although apparently a — complete failure at first a failure which Mr FitzG era ld regretted less on his own account n his tha on that of publisher , to whom he had generously made a present of the book received , nevertheless , a sufficient distribution by being quickly reduced from the price of five shillings and placed in the box of cheap books marked a penny each. Thus forced into circulation , the two hundred copies which had been printed were soon exhausted . Among r the buyers were Dante Gab iel Rossetti , Mr

Swinburne , Captain (now Sir Richard) Burton , and Mr William Simpson , the accomplished w artist of T h e Ill us tra ted London N e s . The ll influence exercised by the first three , especia y by Rossetti , upon a clique of young men who have since grown to distinction , was sufficient to attract observation to the singular beauties of the poem anonymously translated from the

Persian. Most readers had no possible oppor/ tunity of discovering whether it was a disguised original or an actual translation ; even Captain Burton enjoyed probably but little chance of ' seeing a manuscript of the Persian Rubaiyyét. The Oriental imagery and allusions were too 48 EDWARD FITZGERALD thickly scattered throughout the verses to favour the notion that they could be the original work of an Englishman ; yet it was shrewdly suspected by most of the appreciative readers that the ‘ translator ' was substantially

the author and creator of the poem . In the i G era l refuge of his anonymity, F tz d derived an innocent gratification from the curiosity

that was aroused on all sides . After the first

edition had disappeared , inquiries for the little 18 book became frequent , and in the year 6 8

he gave the MS. of his second edition to Mr ' uaritch u a i a n Q , and the R b yy t came into c ir culation once more , but with several alterations and additions by which the number of stanzas was somewhat increased beyond the original sevent / five. y Most of the changes were, as i m ght have been expected , improvements ; ' but in some instance—s the author s taste or caprice was at fault , notably in the first ' é , R ub iy. His fastidious desire to avoid a ny ba r u thing that seemed oq e or unnatural , or appeared like plagiarism , may have influenced him ; but it was probably because he ha d already used the idea in his rendering of ' s Salaman , that he sacrificed a fine and novel piece of imagery in his first stanza and replaced it by one of much more ordinary characte r . If it were from a dislike to pervert D 49 LIFE OF his original too largely , he had no need to be o so scrupulous , since he dealt on the wh le with ' ’ the Rubé iyya t as though he had the licence of

absolute authorship , changing , transposing , and manipulating the substance of the Persian

with singular freedom . The vogue of ‘ old Omar ' (as he would affectionately call

his work) went on increasing, and American

readers took it up with eagerness . In those of days , the mere mention Omar Khayyam between two strangers meeting fortuitously

i b z acted l ke a sign of freemasonry , and esta

lished frequently a bond of friendship . Some

curious instances of this have been related . A remarkable feature Of the Oma r/cult in the was the circumstance that single individuals bought numbers of copies for gratuitous distribution before the book was

reprinted in America . Its editions have been

relatively numerous , when we consider how restricted was the circle of readers who could

understand the peculiar beauties of the work . 187 2 A third edition appeared in , with some m a further alterations , and y be regarded as ' virtually the author s final revision , for it hardly differs at all from the text of the

8 . fourth edition , which appeared in 1 7 9 This last formed the first portion of a volume ‘ entitled Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam ; and 50

LIFE OF l to warp the judgment, we sha l not probably be wrong in supposing that his enthusiastic admiration for Crabbe ' s poems was not the product of sound impartial criticism. He attempted to reintroduce them to the world ‘ by publishing a little volume of Readings ’ from Crabbe , produced in the last year of his life, but without success . A different fate ‘ awaited his Agamemnon " a tragedy taken ’ fE sch lus from y , which was first printed privately by him , and afterwards published 6 with alterations in 187 . It is a very free G rendering from the reek , and full of a poetical beauty which is but partly assignable ‘ to rE schylus. Without attaining to anything like the celebrity and admiration which have followed Omar Khayyam , the Agamemnon has achieved much more than a s ucces ' ' era ld s d es time. Mr Fitz G renderings from the Greek were not confined to this one essay ; he also translated the two CEdipus dramas of

/ Sophocles , but left them unfinished in manu script till Prof. Eliot Norton had a sight of them about seven or eight years ago and urged him to complete his work. When this was done , he had them set in type , but only a very few proofs can have been struck m off, as it see s that, at least in England , no more than one or two C opies were sent out 52 EDWARD FITZGERALD by the author. In a similar way he printed translations of two of Calderon ' s plays not included in the published ‘ Six Dramas

' id s S u n l i namely, La V a e e o, and E M a g co ' Prodigios o (both ranking among the Spaniard s finest work) ; but they also were withheld from the public and all but ha lfua z dozen friends.

When his old boatman died , about ten years ago , he abandoned his nautical exercises and gave up his yacht for ever . During the last few years of his life , he divided his time ' between Cambridge , Crabbe s house , and his l own home at Litt e Grange , near Woodbridge , where he received occasional visits from friends and relatives . ‘ ’ This edition of the Omar Khayyam i s a modest memorial of one of the most modest men who have enriched E nglish literature r with poet y of distinct and permanent value. His best epitaph is found in Tennyson' s ‘ ’ imm z Tiresias and other poems , published e ' dia tely after our author s quiet exit from life

18 83 v t / fif . in , in the se en y th year of his age

M . K .

53 I ns crip tion

' That border land twixt Day and Night be mine ,

And choice companions gathered there to dine ,

With talk , song , mirth , soup, salad , bread and

wine .

N . E . C. STEDMA A N OT E

HE poetry of the learned astro/ nomer and mathematician Ghias uddin Abul Fath ' Umar

bin Ibrahim , known to posterity

as Omar Khayyam , is so real ,

so human , that the old Persian seems to his admirers more real and more human than any other writer of the Middle

Ages . He was an Oriental , and yet his mode of thought is direct and simple , and in spite of the attempts of Sufis to make him out a mystic , and to read esoteric meanings into his refer/ ences / to wine , woman , and song , he is uni versal ; he belongs to the world , and not to a province . Of tru stworthy information regarding his i actual l fe , there is almost none . The famous story of his compact with his two schoolmates and its subsequent fulfilment, when the Nizam ul Mulk , Wazir to the Sultan Malikshah , gave Omar a pension and appointed the dastardly Hasan ben Sabah—known to histo’ ry as the 55 A NOTE BY

‘ — Chief of the Assassins to a position of trust which he abused and repaid with the basest ingratitude , furnishes a dramatic background for his life , but unfortunately there is no proof that it is not a legend . It is dangerous to read the fact into poetry , and one can hardly follow German encyclopaedist and state categorically that Omar Khayyam was born about 1018 and

112 3 105. died in , at the age of For some reason most of Omar' s biographers set his birth somewhere in the last half of the ' ‘ ' eleventh century. If A bulfida s annals are correct the reform of the calendar effected in the reign of Malik/shah by Omar and seven oth er astronomers was dated 107 9 . It seems hopeless to reconcile the contradictions , and one must echo the words of Professor k Zhukovs y, who calls the narrative of the three schoolmates ‘ a fable known to be full of anachronisms and drawn from an a pochrya ’ 1 phal memorial . Aside from the legend of his asking to be buried where the roses might drop their petals

1 The story of his apparition to his mother must also be given up if the earli er date of his birth be accepted . k ‘ Professor Zhukovs y, in his article on the Wandering ' Q uatrains a l Omar Khayyam published in St Petersz ' burg i n 09 7 , has enriche d his biography with a few additional statements concerni ng him. 56 N . H . DOLE — over his grave a request which time has religiously fulfilled—there is one last glimpse ‘ of Omar " They say that Omar was picking his teeth with a golden toothpick and atten/ " tively reading about The divine nature in ' asz s Healing , and coming to the p sage about the one and the many , he placed the golden toothpick between two leaves , got

there z up , said his prayer , made his will , and after neither ate nor drank . Having finished his prayer for his coming sleep he bowed to the ground , and while still bowing down he “ exclaimed " O God " Verily I have known thee according to the measure of my capabilities pardon me because of my knowledge and my " service before thee , and thus he died ' ’ may God s mercy be upon him .

He lived and wrote , when in Spain , Ruy Diaz—known as ‘ The Cid —was performing his wonderful exploits ; the first crusade and the capture of Jerusalem , with the great events that ended the twelfth century, must have come to him with a thrill of excitement ; his life covered the conquest of England by William the Conqueror. But over Europe at that day hung intellectual darkness like a cloud ; in contrast the Arabic and Persian literatures shine with dazzling brilliancy. Amazing is the among whom Omar seemed 57 A NOTE BY to his contemporaries to shine as a star of the second magnitude. But Omar was too much of a scoffer and sceptic to be popular in his own land . His simplicity was western ; he had little of the Oriental filigree work of Hafiz and the most of his successors . Consequently not until recent times , having been discovered by a kindred spirit , was b e recognised as one of the chief in the galaxy of Persian poets . And the paucity of actually known facts in regard to his life finds its concomitant in the inchoate state of his works. There is no received text l a most every quatrain has a variety of readings , as if they had been preserved in the memory of his friends and afterwards jotted down at haphazard , and there is no Persian scholar who would dare from internal evidence to decide which of the twelve hundred or more Rubaiyat were really composed by Omar Khayyam . The dozens having similar thought and vary. ing form would seem to indicate that the trick was easily caught . ' F r s r s a a in t In 1841 , the same a e M g z e hat ' seventeen years afterwards refused Fitz G era ld s immortal translation , published , in a series of

f articles on Persian poetry , a number of trans la tions of the quatrains of Omar Khayyam . They are almost verbally the same as a ftern ‘ wards c ame out under the title The Rose 58

A NOTE BY and the third edition appeared , still without the ' translator s name, still in quarto , but bound in half Roxburghe, and with the number of quat rains reduced to one hundred and one and just twenty years after its first appearance came the fourth edition , the last in the lifetime of Fi G l Edward tz era d, who died in 18 8 3 . From that time forth the names of Omar Khayyam and of FitzG era ld have become inf separably associated . Through the researches of Mr Edward Heron/ A llen we kn ow exactly the source of each one of the quatrains, even those that contain ideas or figures alien to

Omar himself. Others have made tra nslations

/ and paraphrases , but while we would not de tract from the value or interest or scholarliness of these attempts , each one seems the more definitely to set FitzG era ld on a pinnacle

peculiar to itself and unapproachable . It may be asked what is the cause of this i extraordinary vogue of a poem whi ch , in ts

baldest aspect , teaches a hopeless pessimism , an Epicurean philosophy of seizing present

z mo ow pleasures beca use to rr we die , a Pagan

poem , if one will . It corresponds with a certain strenuous den

mand of our day, a dissatisfaction with an unjustified optimism " it voices for us the courage of human philosophy facing the urn 60 N . H . DOLE

' known and daring the possibil ities of a god s injustice ; it pictures a popular form of fatalism which appeals to the philosophic mind ; it has a wholesome taste , though bitter it represents good fellowship of men banding together not to resist , but to meet the inevitable ; more rarely it speaks of love not in the forms of Oriental sensuousness , but with an almost modern sentiment ; the poet reclines underneath the bough , not with bread and wine alone , but with ’ t a book of verses. And las ly it is all couched , in sonorous ringing lines , many of them memorable and of haunting melody and beauty. Such was the service that Edward Fitz G era ld performed . He stands as one more example of men who have done good work and have died unrewarded , leaving behind them an v /w e er idening circle of fame .

N. H . DOLE .

61 On th e F ly/l eaf of a C opy of Omar

' Deem not this book a creed " tis but the cry

Of one who fears not death , yet would not die ; Who at the table feigns with sorry jest ' To love the wine the Master s hand has pressed , The while he loves the absent Master best The bitter cry of love for love ' s reply "

A . S . HARDY. I N P R AIS E O F O M A R

n a B eing a n A ddr ess by th e H on. joh H y

' before th e Om a r Kh a yyam Cl ub in Lo ndon on 8 th De cember 1 897

CANNOT sufficientl y thank you for the high and unn merited honour you have

z done me to n ight. I feel keenly that on such an

occasion , with such company , my place is below the salt ; but as you kindly

invited me , it was not in human nature for

me to refuse . Although in knowledge and comprehension of the two great poets whom you are met to e commemorat I am the least among you , there is no one who regards them with greater

enz admiration , or reads them with more

o n . j yme t, than myself I can never forget ' my emo tions when I first saw F itzG era ld s

translations of the Quatrains . Keats , in his ' / sublime ode on Chapman s Homer, has de scribed the sensation once for all ( 3 IN PRAISE

‘ Then felt I lik e some watcher of th e skies ' When a new planet swims into his ken . l The exquisite beauty, the fault ess form , the r singula grace of those amazing stanz as , were not more wonderful than the depth and breadth of their profound philosophy , their knowledge of life , their dauntless courage , their serene facing of the ultimate problems of life and of death. Of course the doubt did not spa re i me, wh ch has assailed many as ignorant as I wa s of the literature of the East , wheth er it was the poet or his translator to whom was due this splendid result . Was it , in fact , a

m / reproduction of an antique song , or a ysti fica tion of a great modern , careless of fame , and scornful of his time ? Could it be possible t hat in the eleventh century, so far away as

Khorassan, so accomplished a man of letters w t lived , ith such distinction , such bread h , such insight , such calm disillusion , such cheerful and jocund despair ? Was this Weltschmerz , which we thought a malady of our day, endemic in Persia in 1100. My doubt only lasted till I came upon a litera l translation of the Rubaiyat , and I saw that not the least ' remarkable quality of Fitz G erald s poem was its fidelity to the original . Fitz G era ld In short , Omar was a before the latter, or FitzG era ld was a reincarnation of 64 OF OMAR

Omar. It is not to the disadvantage of the later poe t that he followed so closely in the footsteps of the earlier. A man of extra; ordinary genius had appeared in the world ; had sung a song of incomparable beauty and power in an environment no longer worthy r of him, in a language of na row range ; for many generations the song was virtually lost ; twiw then by a miracle of creation , a poet, a brother in the spirit to the first , was born, who took up the forgotten poem and sung it anew a with all its original melody and force , and ll the accumulated refinement of ages of art. It seems to me idle to ask which was the greater master ; each seems greater than his work . The song is like an instrument of precious workmanship and marvellous tone , which is worthless in common hands , but when it l fal s , at long intervals , into the hands of the

u supreme master, it yields a melody of trans cendent enchantment to all that have ears to hear . If we look at th e sphere of influence of the two poets , there is no longer any coma parison . Omar sang to a half/barba rous

FitzG era ld . province ; to the world . Where n ever the E glish speech is spoken or read , the Rubaiyat have taken their place as a

. hill/ o classic There is not a p st in India , nor a village in England , where there is not 6 5 IN PRAISE a coterie to whom Omar Khayyam is a familiar friend and a bond of union . In l America he has an equal fol owing , in many regions and conditions . In the Eastern States his adepts form an esoteric sect ; the beautiful volume of drawings by Mr Vedder is a centre of delight and suggestion wherever it exists. In the cities of the West you will find the Quatrains one of the most thoroughly read books in every club library . I heard them quoted once in one of the most lonely

and desolate spots of the high Rockies . We

had been camping on the Great Divide, our ‘ ’ roof of the world , where in the space of

a few feet you may see two springs , one u sending its waters to the Polar solit des , the

other to the eternal Carib summer . One

morning at sunrise, as we were breaking

ca mp , I was startled to hear one of our party,

a frontiersman born , intoning these words of sombre majesty " Tis but a Tent where takes his one day ' s rest A S ultén to the Realm of Death addrest ; S a F a The ult n rises , and the dark err sh ’ Strikes , and prepares it for another Guest . I thought that sublime setting of primeval forest and po uring cari on was worthy of the

lines ; I am sure the dewless , crystalline air ne ver vibrated to strains of more solemn 6 6

Sultan and slave alike have gone their way

With Bahram Gur , but whither none may say . Yet he who charmed the wise at N a ishépur

Seven centuries since , still charms the wise

touday.

THOMAS BAI LEY ALDRICH . V OC ABULARY

A h /lif. the Alif, N ame of first letter in the Persian

alphabet ; the only vowel written. ‘

A / h . d . Allah , l la Arabic name for the Lor d Go

i A r me r. Am r , é Arabic for Prince ; in composition , ' as amiru ddeula , grand vizir (wazir) . A ta A a wr A arri d /uddin t r, tt . famous Persian Poet , F t B t z A tér, author of the ird Parliament , par ly para t phra sed by Edward F i zG era ld .

B r a G B a h /ra wm G . A s ah m ur (xvii) , oor ncient Per ian

king and hunter.

Ka r wa w z a z a h z e e . Caravanserai (xvi) , n s r Hotel of the

Caravan .

z r dan Danad , Da w na d . Third perso n singula of to

know.

Fénusi a z z a h e/ wl . M Khiy l , F a w noo s e e K ya agic

lantern .

F a F a r/ra wsb . A te t/ itcher. err sh , servant , n p

a i Ha wr i A k H t m Tai (ix) , t m T y. mythical ing , type

of generosity. A H ed a M Hura , rabic jr , flight , The flight of ahomet

62 2 . from which M ussulrnans date , "une 16 , If V Ha e A d am ( ) . r m. The rabian garden fable to have ' ' been planted by Shaddad bin A d . See Sale s

Koran, chapter lxxxix "note .

a m/ he A k u "amshyd (v) , [ s e d . mythical ing of the Pesh s / dadian dynasty . The ru ins of his palace at Per e l polis are stil shown . 69 VOCABULARY

Ka ikh osru K /k OOZ/I OW . n (ix) , y Persia for Kin g Cyrus .

Kaikobad K /k oz b a wd. A t (ix) , y my hical ki ng .

s K ooz r ro w. C hosroes Khu raw, Persian for , a common

l . S S us ra a s Roya name anskrit v , famous .

f Kuza Nama (in ed . 1 , a title prefixed to quatra ins lix .

v Kooz a nna ma . B k t/ lx i) , w oo of Pots , or Po b ook .

M h M a . é , w. The moon The Arabs pronounce it

M a h .

Méhi M a hi , a w . F ish .

M h / d. A ahmud (x) , M a moo common name among Orientals corresponding to M uhammad or M a r b omet . M uezzin A nglicized from Arabic ‘ ’ word meani ng he who call s to prayer .

M / / . ushtari , M oosh ta h re e . The planet "upiter

N a ish r ha oo . épur, N y (or N ee) s wp r In modern Khora Persian, Nishabur. The famous city of sén ,

home of Omar . ' N aw Roo o N ew Y . z, N e w R o z . The Persian ear s day ' Omar Khayyam (by purists spelt Umar " the apos " ' trophe indi c ating th e breathing a in whi ch might ' h Gh oom r K . be represented by g , as in high) a y

ya wm. Khayy am signifies Tent/ maker . This

may or may not have been a family tra de .

a r/ we n. . Parwin (liv) , P e The Pleiades

h r u Pehlevi (vi) , P a hl a ve e . The official langua ge of the

Sassani an dynasty , with a special script . Later middle Persian still free from Semitic influence is

calle d Parsi ; modern Persian is called F arsi .

/ z Ramazan, R a ma /da wn or R a m a tha wn. The ninth

Muslim month , devote d to fasting . Rub aiyat Plural of Arabic ' Ruba i a quatrain, four lines.

r t Rustum (ix) , R oos ta m. Rustam , a my hical Persian

2 61. hero , son of 7 0 VOCABULARY

z Sa S a w lre e . A z b ear ki , C U p er . ‘ ’ / Shéh néma Sh a wh z n a wma . B , ook of Kings , by A bul / a im Ah q s Hasan mad , known as F irdausi .

A S . A Sheikh rabic heekh n old man , hence a title

of respect ; chief of religion .

K z ib S oc / bh e e a wz ib . Subhi é , K The false dawn . ’

S o oz bhi a z i . Subhi Sadik , S w d k The true dawn .

S e a / e e Sufi , f . A sect which read esoteric meanings

into all poetry .

S a S ool z a w A S . ult n t n . rabic ultan , a king The

i Sha wh . K ng of Persia is Shah ( ) , Padeshah or Shah

inshé h .

z a . a T a h ma wm Sh d Tam n (lst ed Tam m Shud) , oo .

The end . The very end .

2 1 Z w . 5 , a l . F ather of Rustam

The accent in Persian words is regularly on the last syllable . These are approximately

m d e rn the pronunciation in o Persian , but as Omar ' s own pronunciation is utterly unknown and was undoubtedly very different , the ordinary Anglicized use of the words is to be recommended .

N . H . D .

7 1