The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor WitShall lure it back to cancel half a Line,Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
Public domain. This passage is in the public domain. Omar Khayyám died in 1131 and the translator, Edward FitzGerald, died in 1883, more than 70 years ago, and the work was first published in 1120. You can copy, print, read aloud or sell it without asking permission; a credit is kind but not required. The text is copied word for word from the Project Gutenberg edition linked here.
Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.
To fill the hour,—that is happiness; to fill the hour and leave no crevice for a repentance or an approval.
A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—and ThouBeside me singing in the Wilderness—Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
Tho’ much is taken, much abides; and tho’We are not now that strength which in old daysMoved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are;One equal temper of heroic hearts,Made weak by time and fate, but strong in willTo strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
All the world’s a stage,And all the men and women merely players;They have their exits and their entrances,And one man in his time plays many parts,His acts being seven ages.
We keep adding passages and collections. Leave your email and we’ll tell you when something new lands.
Optional. One short email per new collection, and nothing else.