And fear not lest Existence closing your
Account and mine, should know the like no more;
The Eternal Saki from that Bowl has pour’d
Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.
The weakness and littleness of man has been the subject of endless words before and since, but never has poet put it more strongly than here. The Eternal Saki—the great wine pourer, tips his pitcher and turns out millions of bubbles, and still they come forever, and each of us is one.
But however brave and stoical Omar seems to be, still he feels sad when witnessing the flight of years and the ravages of time. It is, of course, useless to fight the inevitable, and the strongest will must bend and break before the weakening touch of age. Whether it is good or bad, all cling to existence, and sadly and reluctantly let go the tendrils that hold to pulsing life. The fading of Spring and youth, and the coming of Autumn with its suggestions of the approaching end, is most beautiful and touching in this marvelous book:
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 flown again, who knows!