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.
XVI
"Some for the Glories of this world; and some
Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to Come;"
The greatest Boon I ask for is, I may
Supplant this Interloper as a Chum.
XVII
Now all the Years that we have Wedded been,
Not once had Demon Jealousy crept in
Until this Omar—dead eight Hundred Years,
Did come and her Affection from me Win.