Part 13 (2/2)

”The Eternal Saki from that bowl hath poured Millions of bubbles like us and shall pour,”

Thy life or mine, a half-unspoken word, A fleck of foam tossed on an unknown sh.o.r.e.

”When thou 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 seven seas shall heed a pebble cast.”

”Then, my beloved, fill the cup that clears To-day of past regrets and future fears.”

This is the only wisdom man can know, ”I come like water, and like wind I go.”

But tell me, Omar, hast thou said the whole?

If such the bubbles that fill Saki's bowl, How great is Saki, whose least whisper calls Forth from the swirling mists a human soul!

Omar, one word of thine is but a breath, A single cadence in thy perfect song; And as its measures softly flow along, A million cadences pa.s.s on to death.

Shall this one word withdraw itself in scorn, Because 't is not thy first, nor last, nor all-- Because 't is not the sole breath thou hast drawn, Nor yet the sweetest from thy lips let fall?

I do rejoice that when ”of Me and Thee”

Men talk no longer, yet not less, but more, The Eternal Saki still that bowl shall fill, And ever stronger, purer bubbles pour.

One little note in the Eternal Song, The Perfect Singer hath made place for me; And not one atom in earth's wondrous throng But shall be needful to Infinity.

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