158 
P. Whalley —Metrical Translations from the 
[No. 2, 
Metrical Translations from the Quatrains of ’ JJmar Khayyam .— By 
P. Whalley, C. S., Muradabdd. 
I. 
0»~xi OwjJ ^ J.!a> l-sfl 
i_ — dj"** J"* * &l 4 
«• •• 
There’s not a heart but bleeds for thy disdain ; 
There’s not a sage but has gone mad for thee ; 
And though for love thou giv’st no love again, 
There’s not a brain that from thy love is free. 
II. 
^ CJ‘ /0 jO 
• M 
•• * 
v t^A vsJ,* *s y—J> 
*f 
^*•1 wf ^ (Jdi f A*' J. xa. .J. j 
«• 
Drink, drink! Like quicksilver I see with ruth 
Life from thee slide : 
And false is fortune, hope a dream, and youth 
Ebbs, like a tide. 
III. 
- *J\ y%)J - tXi f^JC G Uj 
]j — i (Jib? fc jJ y 
*—iiiir# j *.y cfjtA 
Come and ere sorrows swarm up to harry us, 
Idol mine, blithely the wine-cup we’ll drain. 
TVe are not gold that the rough hands that bury us 
Ever should care to exhume us again. 
IV. 
ji ■■ j p I/O 
y&° lsjj y ** cs&it*** csjj y 
«• i» 
