Edward Fitzgerald
Edward Fitzgerald
Edward FitzGeraldwas an English poet and writer, best known as the poet of the first and most famous English translation of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. The writing of his name as both FitzGerald and Fitzgerald is seen. The use here of FitzGerald conforms with that of his own publications, anthologies such as Quiller-Couch's Oxford Book of English Verse, and most reference books up until about the 1960s...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth31 March 1809
ball player question strikes
The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, / But Here or There as strikes the Player goes.
thousand
To-morrow? - Why, To-morrow I may be / Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years.
book wine paradise
A book of verses underneath the bough, A jug of wine, a loaf of bread-and thou.
time sleep sun
Whether we wake or we sleep, Whether we carol or weep, The Sun with his Planets in chime, Marketh the going of Time.
life-is-short merry
I am all for the short and merry life.
ball english-poet player question strikes
The Ball no question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Here or There as strikes the Player goes.
english-poet rest
Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest.
blows buried caesar garden head lap lovely red rose wears
I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head
less shall today tomorrow yesterday
Think then you are Today what Yesterday you were - Tomorrow you shall not be less
discover returns road travel
Strange, is it not? That of the myriads who Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through, Not one returns to tell us of the Road Which to discover we must travel too.
buy half played robbed robe stuff wonder
And much as Wine has played the Infidel, And robbed me of my Robe of Honor Well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the stuff they sell.
ate believe english-poet god miracle prove took
If you can prove to me that one miracle took place, I will believe he is a just God who damned us all because a woman ate an apple.
cancel finger half lure moves nor piety shall wash wit word
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
door found might veil
There was the Door to which I found no key; There was the Veil through which I might see