XV
And thus it is—the Rubaiyat's her Creed.
It is her Comfort in all sorts of Need.
I tear my hair—I storm—I swear, and yet,
'Tis only to dear Omar she pays Heed.
And thus it is—the Rubaiyat's her Creed.
It is her Comfort in all sorts of Need.
I tear my hair—I storm—I swear, and yet,
'Tis only to dear Omar she pays Heed.