| With Earth`s first Clay They did the Last Man knead,
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Edward FitzGerald |
| With me along the strip of Herbage strown
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Edward FitzGerald |
| With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow,
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Edward FitzGerald |
| Would but some winged Angel ere too late
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Edward FitzGerald |
| Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield
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Edward FitzGerald |
| Would you that spangle of Existence spend
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Edward FitzGerald |
| YESTERDAY This Day`s Madness did prepare;
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Edward FitzGerald |
| Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
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Edward FitzGerald |
| Yon rising Moon that looks for us again
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Edward FitzGerald |
| You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse
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Edward FitzGerald |
| `Tis but a Tent where takes his one day`s rest
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Edward FitzGerald |