In a Copy of Omar Khayyam
In a Copy of Omar Khayyam
THESE pearls of thought in Persian gulfs were bred,
Each softly lucent as a rounded moon;
The diver Omar plucked them from their bed,
Fitzgerald strung them on an English thread.
Fit rosary for a queen, in shape and hue,
When Contemplation tells her pensive beads
Of mortal thoughts, forever old and new.
Fit for a queen? Why, surely then for you!
The moral? Where Doubt’s eddies toss and twirl
Faith’s slender shallop till her footing reel,
Plunge: if you find not peace beneath the whirl,
Groping, you may like Omar grasp a pearl.
Chicago: James Russell Lowell, In a Copy of Omar Khayyam Original Sources, accessed November 23, 2024, http://originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=AA2HV7TQYBW2U82.
MLA: Lowell, James Russell. In a Copy of Omar Khayyam, Original Sources. 23 Nov. 2024. http://originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=AA2HV7TQYBW2U82.
Harvard: Lowell, JR, In a Copy of Omar Khayyam. Original Sources, retrieved 23 November 2024, from http://originalsources.com/Document.aspx?DocID=AA2HV7TQYBW2U82.
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