OMAR AND THE RABBI
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BY FREDERICK LEROY SARGENT

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DANIEL L QUIRKR
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Daniel L. Quint D.
Oct-1919-

OMAR AND THE RABBI

OMAR and the RABBI
FITZGERALD'S TRANSLATION
OF THE RUBAIYAT OF OMAR
AND BROWN-
KHAYYAM,
ING'S RABBI BEN EZRA, Ar-
RANGED IN DRAMATIC FORM
BY
FREDERICK LEROY SARGENT
日
​BOSTON
THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY
1919
་
75
Copyright, 1909, by
FREDERICK LEROY SARGENT
Copyright, 1919, by
THE FOUR SEAS COMPANY
First edition,
October, 1909
Second
December, 1911
Third
August, 1919
The Four Seas Press
Boston, Mass., U. S. A.
7
Preface
For the benefit of readers who may not be entirely
familiar with the two poems here combined, it may
be well to state that each poem is used entire and
without any alteration or transposition of parts.
Whether Browning could have had Fitzgerald's
translation in mind when writing Rabbi Ben Ezra
is a matter of conjecture with regard to which
there seems to be no more evidence than the way
the two poems fit together. However that may be,
the fitting together which has been here attempted
reveals an amount of structure and dramatic power
in both poems perhaps hitherto unsuspected. A pub-
lic performance of the play was given by the Senior
Class of Emerson College at Chickering Hall, Bos-
ton, Massachusetts, April 11, 1910.
F. L. S.
3
Omar and the Rabbi
PERSONS
OMAR KHAYYAM, the astronomer-poet of Persia.
Rabbi Ben Ezra, a philosopher.
A DANCING GIRL, representing Spring (soprano).
A YOUNG MAN SINGER, representing Summer
(tenor).
SAKI, representing Autumn (contralto).
OLD MAN, representing Winter (bass).
A YOUTH.
A MAIDEN.
SCENE: A garden on the road to Naishápúr.
Through branches at the left one sees a turret
and minarets of the city. Near the center a
tent richly ornamented and bearing a tavern-
sign of grapes, leaves, and tendrils. At the
right a well.
Springtime, 1100. The scene opens before sunrise;
the light, at first very dim, becomes rosy, then
fades, and finally brightens into day.
Enter, right, the YOUTH and the MAIDEN, both
simply clad. She stops at the well and draws
water. He, attracted by the tent, gazes at it
with eager interest.
Enter, left, Omar, in festal attire.
3
OMAR
[Approaching the tent.]
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 Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light.
[Catches sight of the Youth.]
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?"
[The Maiden goes hurriedly to the Youth and of-
fers him a cup of water. The Youth takes it,
but hesitates to drink, and gazes still at the
tent. Omar, marking the Youth's leaning.
continues.]
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.”
[Omar goes to the tent door, holds it open with
an inviting gesture and smiles engagingly at
the Youth, who starts to enter, but is restrained
by the Maiden.
Then, at a sign from Omar, there comes from the
tent the DANCING GIRL, appareled as SPRING,
and bearing an almond branch in bloom. As
the Girl sings, the Maiden shows increasing
fear and distress at the Girl's power over the
Youth.]
6
SONG OF SPRING
Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.
Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one
knows;
But still a Ruby gushes from the Vine,
And many a Garden by the Water blows.
Wine!
And David's lips are lockt; but in divine
High-piping Péhlevi, with "Wine! Wine!
Red Wine!" the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That sallow cheek of her's to'incarnadine.
Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring
Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To flutter and the Bird is on the Wing.
Whether at Naishápúr or Babylon,
Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,
The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,
The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.
[Before the end of the song, enter, right, RABBI
BEN EZRA. Observing the Maiden's distress
and Omar's smile, he casts at him a reproach-
ful glance, goes to the Youth and puts an
arm on the young man's shoulder affection-
ately.]
7
RABBI
[To the Youth, as they walk together toward the
well.]
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith, "A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be
afraid!"
[Omar glances smilingly at the Maiden; then in re-
sponse to his beckoning there comes from the
tent the YOUNG MAN SINGER, appareled as SUM-
MER, and bearing a book.]
SONG OF SUMMER
Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say;
Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?
And this first Summer month that brings the Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobád away.
Well, let it take them! What have we to do
With Kaikobád the Great, or Kaikhosrú?
Let Zál and Rustum thunder as they will,
Or Hátim call to Supper-heed not you.
[To the Maiden, who stands wondering.]
With me along the strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,
Where name of Slave and Sultán is forgot
And Peace to Máhmúd on his golden Throne!
A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread- and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
RABBI
[To the Youth.]
Not that, amassing flowers,
Youth sighed, "Which rose make ours,
Which lily leave and then as best recall?”
Not that, admiring_stars,
It yearned, "Nor Jove, nor Mars;
Mine be some figured flame which blends, tran-
scends them all!"
Not for such hopes and fears
Annulling youth's brief years,
Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark!
Rather I prize the doubt
Low kinds exist without,
Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark.
Poor vaunt of life indeed,
Were man but formed to feed
On joy, to solely seek and find and feast;
Such feasting ended, then
As sure an end to men;
Irks care the crop full bird? Frets doubt the maw-
crammed beast?
Rejoice we are allied
To That which doth provide
And not partake, effect and not receive!
A spark disturbs our clod;
Nearer we hold of God
9
Who gives, than of His tribes that take, I must
believe.
[SAKI peers from the tent. She is appareled as
AUTUMN, and carries a jug and a wine-cup.
Omar goes to her, takes the cup which she has
offered to him, and holds it to receive wine from
the jug. He then leads her forward. Following
her from the tent comes the OLD MAN, appareled
as WINTER, and leaning on a staff twined with
withered leaves.]
OMAR
Some for the Glories of This World; and some
Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come;
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go,
Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!
RABBI
Then, welcome each rebuff
That turns earth's smoothness rough,
Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go!
Be our joys three-parts pain!
Strive, and hold cheap the strain;
Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the
throe!
[Saki, acknowledging a look from Omar, sings.]
SONG OF AUTUMN
"Lo,
Look to the blowing Rose about us
Laughing," she says, "into the world I blow,
At once the silken tassel of my Purse
Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw."
IO
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 Old Man sings.]
SONG OF WINTER
The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
Turns Ashes or it prospers; and anon,
Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,
Lighting a little hour or two-was gone.
RABBI
[Turns sadly away from the Old Man, goes to the
well, where he seats himself: the Maiden at the
same time coming to sit reverently at his feet.]
For thence, - a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks,
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
What I aspired to be,
And was not, comforts me:
A brute I might have been, but would not sink i' the
scale.
What is he but a brute
Whose flesh has soul to suit,
Whose spirit works lest arms and legs want play?
To man, propose this test
Thy body at its best,
How far can that project thy soul on its lone way?
II
OMAR
[Advances to Youth; speaks intimately.]
Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai
Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day,
How Sultán after Sultán with his Pomp
Abode his destin'd Hour, and went his way.
They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep:
And Bahrám, 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 Cæsar 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 unseen!
[The Youth is led the while apart by Omar, and ap-
pears fascinated by the poet's fancies. The
singers, observing Omar's triumph, sing to-
gether.
CHORUS
Ah, my Belovéd, fill the cup that clears
TO-DAY of past Regret and future Fears:
To-morrow! Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years.
12
For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from his Vintage rolling Time has prest,
Have drunk 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;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans End!
RABBI
Yet gifts should prove their use:
I own the Past profuse
Of power each side, perfection every turn:
Eyes, ears took in their dole,
Brain treasured up the whole;
Should not the heart beat once "How good to live
and learn"?
Not once beat "Praise be Thine!
I see the whole design,
I, who saw power, see now Love perfect too:
Perfect I call Thy plan:
Thanks that I was a man!
Maker, remake, complete, — I trust what Thou shalt
do!"
For pleasant is this flesh;
Our soul, in its rose-mesh
Pulled ever to the earth, still yearns for rest:
13
Would we some prize might hold
To match those manifold
Possessions of the brute,-gain most, as we did
best!
Let us not always say,
Spite of this flesh to-day
I strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole!"
As the bird wings and sings,
Let us cry," All good things
Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh
helps soul!"
OMAR
Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare,
And those that after some TOMORROW stare,
A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries,
Fools, your Reward is neither Here nor There."
Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
Of the Two Worlds so learnedly are thrust
Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn
Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.
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 where in I went.
With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow,
And with my own hand wrought to make it grow;
And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd-
"I came like Water, and like Wind I go.
14
Into this Universe, and Why not knowing,
Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing;
And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.
What, without asking, hither hurried Whence?
And, without asking, Whither hurried hence!
O, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine
Must drown the memory of that insolence!
Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate
I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,
And many a Knot unravell'd by the Road;
But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.
There was the Door to which I found no key;
There was the Veil through which I could not see:
Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE
There was
and then no more of THEE and ME.
Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mourn
In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn;
Nor rolling Heaven, with all his Signs reveal'd
And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn.
Then of the THEE IN ME who works behind
The Veil, I lifted up my hands to find
A Lamp amid the Darkness; and I heard,
As from Without-"THE ME WITHIN THEE
BLIND!"
RABBI
Therefore I summon age
To grant youth's heritage,
Life's struggle having so far reached its term:
15
Thence shall I pass, approved
A man, for aye removed
From the developed brute; a God though in the
germ.
And I shall thereupon
Take rest, ere I be gone
Once more on my adventure brave and new:
Fearless and unperplexed,
When I wage battle next,
What weapons to select, what armour to indue.
Youth ended, I shall try
My gain or loss thereby:
Leave the fire ashes, what survives is gold:
And I shall weigh the same,
Give life its praise or blame :
Young, all lay in dispute; I shall know, being old.
For, note when evening shuts,
A certain moment cuts
The deed off, calls the glory from the grey:
A whisper from the west
Shoots - Add this to the rest,
Take it and try its worth: here dies another day."
So, still within this life,
Though lifted o'er its strife,
Let me discern, compare, pronounce at last,
"This rage was right i' the main,
That acquiescence vain:
The Future I may face now I have proved the Past."
For more is not reserved
To man, with soul just nerved
To act to-morrow what he learns to-day:
16
Here, work enough to watch
The Master work, and catch
Hints of the proper craft, tricks of the tool's true
play.
As it was better, youth
Should strive, through acts uncouth,
Toward making, than repose on aught found made;
So, better, age, exempt
From strife, should know, than tempt
Further. Thou waitedest age: wait death nor be
afraid!
OMAR
[Drains the wine-cup.]
Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn
I lean'd, the Secret of my Life to learn:
And Lip to Lip it murmur'd-"While you live,
Drink! - for, once dead, you never shall return."
I think the Vessel, that with fugitive
Articulation answer'd, once did live,
And drink; and Ah! the passive Lip I kiss'd,
How many Kisses might it take — and give!
For I remember stopping by the way
To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay:
And with its all-obliterated Tongue
It murmur'd-"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!"
Listen - a moment listen! Of the same
"
Poor Earth from which that Human Whisper came
The luckless Mould in which Mankind was cast
They did compose, and call'd him by the name.
17
And not a drop that from our Cups we throw
For Earth to drink of, but may steal below
To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye
There hidden-far beneath, and long ago.
As then the Tulip for her morning sup
Of Heav'nly Vintage from the soil looks up,
Do you devoutly do the like, till Heav'n
To Earth invert you like an Empty Cup.
Perplext no more with Human or Divine,
To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign,
And lose your fingers in the tresses of
The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine.
And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press,
End in what All begins and ends in Yes;
Think then you are TO-DAY what YESTERDAY
You were- TO-MORROW you shall not be less.
So when the Angel of the darker Drink
At last shall find you by the river-brink,
And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul
Forth to your Lips to quaff-you shall not shrink.
Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,
Wer't not a Shame-wer't not a Shame for him
In this clay carcase crippled to abide?
'Tis but a Tent where takes his one-day's rest
A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest;
The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrásh
Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest.
18
And fear not lest Existence closing your
Account, and mine, should know the like no more;
The Eternal Sáki from that Bowl has pour'd
Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.
When You and I behind the Veil are past,
Oh but the long long while the World shall last,
Which of our Coming and Departure heeds
As the SEV'N SEAS should heed a pebble-cast.
A Moment's Halta momentary taste
Of BEING from the Well amid the Waste-
And Lo! - the phantom Caravan has reach'd
The NOTHING it set out from -Oh, make haste!
Would you that spangle of Existence spend
About THE SECRET -quick about it, Friend!
A Hair perhaps divides the False and True
And upon what, prithee, does Life depend?
A Hair perhaps divides the False and True;
Yes; and a single Alif were the clue-
Could you but find it to the Treasure-house,
And peradventure to THE MASTER too;
Whose secret Presence, through Creations veias
Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains;
Taking all shapes from Máh to Máhi; and
They change and perish all-but He remains;
A moment guess'd then back behind the Fold
Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll'd
Which, for the Pastime of Eternity,
He does Himself contrive, enact, behold.
19
But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor
Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door,
You gaze TO-DAY, while You are You-how then
TO-MORROW, You when shall be You no more?
Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit
Of This and That endeavour and dispute;
Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.
RABBI
Enough now, if the Right
And Good and Infinite
Be named here, as thou call'st thy hand thine own,
With knowledge absolute,
Subject to no dispute
From fools that crowded youth, nor let thee feel
alone.
Be there, for once and all,
Severed great minds from small,
Announced to each his station in the Past!
Was I, the world arraigned,
Were they, my soul disdained,
Right? Let age speak the truth and give us peace
at last!
OMAR
[Turning with a shrug to his followers.]
You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse
I made a Second Marriage in my house;
Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.
20
For "Is" and "Is-Nor” though with Rule and Line,
And "UP-AND-DOWN" by Logic I define,
Of all that one should care to fathom, I
Was never deep in anything but - Wine.
Ah, but my Computations, People say,
Reduced the Year to better reckoning? - Nay,
'T was only striking from the Calendar
Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday.
And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,
Came shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape
Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and
He bid me taste of it; and't was the Grape!
The Grape that can with Logic absolute
The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:
The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice
Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute :
The mighty Mahmúd, Allah-breathing Lord,
That all the misbelieving and black Horde
Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul
Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword.
Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare
Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare?
A Blessing, we should use it, should we not?
And if a Curse - why, then, Who set it there?
I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must,
Scared by some After-reckoning ta'en on trust,
Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink,
To fill the Cup-when crumbled into Dust!
21
O threats of Hell and hopes of Paradise!
One thing at least is certain, —- This Life flies;
One thing is certain and the rest is Lies;
The Flower that once has blown forever dies.
Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who
Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through
Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to discover we must travel too.
The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd
Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn'd,
Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep
They told their fellows, and to Sleep return'd.
I sent my Soul through the Invisible,
Some letter of that After-life to spell:
And by and by my Soul return'd to me,
And answer'd “Í Myself am Heav'n and Hell.”
Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire,
And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire,
Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves,
So late emerg'd from, shall so soon expire.
We are no other than a moving row
Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go
Round with this Sun-illumin'd Lantern held
In Midnight by the Master of the Show;
Impotent Pieces of the Game He plays
Upon this Checker-board of Nights and Days;
Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays.
22
The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes
But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes;
And He that toss'd you down into the Field,
He knows about it all He knows-HE knows!
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky,
Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die,
Lift not your hands to It for help for It
As impotently rolls as you or I.
With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man
knead,
And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed:
And the first Morning of Creation wrote
What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.
YESTERDAY This Day's Madness did prepare;
TO-MORROW'S Silence, Triumph, or Despair:
Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor
why:
Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.
[Holds wine-cup for Saki to refill, then drains it.]
I tell you this - When, started from the Goal,
Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal
Of Heav'n Parwin and Mushtari they flung,
In my predestin'd Plot of Dust and Soul
23
The Vine had struck a fibre: which about
If clings my Being let the Dervish flout;
Dervish_flout;
Of my Base metal may be filed a Key,
That shall unlock the Door he howls without.
And this I know whether the one True Light
Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite,
One Flash of It within the Tavern caught
Better than in the Temple lost outright.
What! out of senseless Nothing to provoke
A conscious Something to resent the yoke
Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain
Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke!
What, from his helpless Creature be repaid
Pure Gold for what he lent us dross-allay'd —
Sue for a Debt we never did contract,
And cannot answer - Oh the sorry trade!
Oh Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin
Beset the Road I was to wander in,
Thou wilt not with Predestin'd Evil round
Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin!
Oh, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make
And ev❜n with Paradise devise the Snake:
For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man
Is blacken'd-Man's Forgiveness give — and take!
[The Maiden rises in horror at Omar's words, and
rushes to the Youth, who stands amazed yet
fascinated. He permits himself to be drawn a
few steps away from Omar, while the Rabbi
steps in between Omar and them.]
24
RABBI
[While he is speaking the wine-cup, filled by Saki,
goes round among the singers.]
Now, who shall arbitrate?
Ten men love what I hate,
Shun what I follow, slight what I receive;
Ten, who in ears and eyes
Match me: we all surmise,
They this thing, and I that: whom shall my soul
believe?
Not on the vulgar mass
Called "work," must sentence pass,
Things done, that took the eye and had the price;
O'er which, from level stand,
The low world laid its hand,
Found straightway to its mind, could value in a
trice:
But all, the world's coarse thumb
And finger failed to plumb,
So passed in making up the main account;
All instincts immature,
All purposes unsure,
That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's
amount:
Thoughts hardly to be packed
Into a narrow act,
Fancies that broke through language and escaped;
All I could never be,
All, men ignored in me,
This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher
shaped.
25
OMAR
[Smiling cynically at the Rabbi.]
As under cover of departing Day
Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazán away,
One more within the Potter's house alone
I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay.
[With significant looks at the Rabbi, the Youth, and
the Maiden.]
Shapes of all Sorts and Sizes, great and small,
That stood along the floor and by the wall;
And some loquacious Vessels were; and some
Listen'd perhaps, but never talk'd at all.
Said one among them-"Surely not in vain
My substance of the common Earth was ta'en
And to this Figure moulded, to be broke,
Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again."
Then said a Second-"Ne'er a peevish Boy
Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy:
And He that with his hand the Vessel made
Will surely not in after Wrath destroy."
After a momentary silence spake
Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make;
They sneer at me for leaning_all awry:
What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?”
Whereat some one of the loquacious Lot
I think a Súfi pipkin- waxing hot-
"
All this Pot and Potter-Tell me then,
Who makes - Who sells - Who buys - Who is the
Pot?"
26
"Why" said another, "Some there are who tell
Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell
The luckless Pots he marr'd in making - Pish!
He's a Good Fellow, and 't will all be well."
"Well," murmur'd one, “Let whoso make or buy,
My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry:
But fill me with the old familiar Juice,
Methinks I might recover by and by."
So while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
The little Moon look'd in that all were seeking:
And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother!
Brother!
Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking!"
RABBI
Ay, note that Potter's wheel,
That metaphor! and feel
Why time spins fast, why passive lies our clay, -
Thou, to whom fools propound
When the wine makes its round,
"Since life fleets, all is change; the Past gone, seize
to-day!"
Fool! All that is, at all,
Lasts ever, past recall;
Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure:
What entered into thee,
That was, is, and shall be:
Time's wheel runs back or stops: Potter and clay
endure.
He fixed thee mid this dance
Of plastic circumstance,
This Present, thou, forsooth, wouldst fain arrest:
27
Machinery just meant
To give thy soul its bent,
Try thee and turn thee forth, sufficiently impressed.
What though the earlier grooves
Which ran the laughing loves
Around thy base, no longer pause and press?
What though, about thy rim,
Skull-things in order grim
Grow out, in graver mood, obey the sterner stress?
OMAR
Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide,
And wash the Body whence the Life has died,
And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf,
By some not unfrequented Garden-side.
That ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare
Of Vintage 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 eyes much wrong:
Have drown'd my Glory 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-in-hand
My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore.
And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel,
And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour-Well,
I wonder often what the Vintners buy
One half so precious as the stuff they sell.
28
Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close!
The Nightingale that in the branches sang,
Ah whence, and whither flov n again, who knows!
Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield
One glimpse—if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd,
To which the fainting Traveller might spring,
As springs the trampled herbage of the field!
Would but some wingéd Angel ere too late
Arrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate,
And make the stern Recorder otherwise
Enregister, or quite obliterate!
[Turning to Saki.]
Ah Love! could you and I with Him conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits—and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!
[The Youth turns from Omar in revulsion, then
looks lovingly toward the Maiden, while he
drinks from the water-cup and hands it to her.
She takes it from him joyfully and drinks what
remains, raising her eyes in thanks to Heaven.
When she has emptied the cup she places it
inverted upon the well. All watch her with
interest. The light declines and becomes sil-
very. Omar continues, sadly.]
Yon rising Moon that looks for us again
How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;
How oft hereafter rising look for us
Through this same Garden -and for one in vain!
29
And when like her, oh Sáki, you shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass,
And in your blissful errand reach the spot
Where I made One — turn down an empty Glass!
RABBI
[To the Youth, lovingly.]
Look not thou down but up!
To uses of a cup,
The festal board, lamp's flash and trumpet's peal,
The new wine's foaming flow,
The Master's lips a-glow!
Thou, heaven's consummate cup, what need'st thou
with earth's wheel?
[In prayer.]
But I need, now as then,
Thee, God, who mouldest men;
And since, not even while the whirl was worst,
Did I-to the wheel of life
With shapes and colors rife,
Bound dizzily-mistake my end, to slake Thy thirst:
So, take and use Thy work:
Amend what flaws may lurk,
What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past the aim!
My times be in Thy hand!
Perfect the cup as planned!
Let age approve of youth, and death complete the
same!
mar and his followers retire to the tent with
forced merriment. The Rabbi, followed by the
Youth and the Maiden hand in hand, walk
toward the city.]
30
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