Ruba'iyat

Time, you put the sorrow in my eyes;
Without you they would mirror sunlit skies
Where white birds wheel in lily-clouded blue -
Yet, save for you, no sun would ever rise.

Time, you put the sorrow in my song;
It well might be more lusty, hale and strong,
More like a wholesome gift of living art -
Yet thus, would lack a heart and wither young.

Ah, Time, you raise the wine-cup to my lips;
The passing sorrow and the sigh that slips
Away with every breath I charge to you,
And all the dear, sweet pain of fellowships.

And, Time, you put the hollow in my cheek;
Your winter nights of sleety stars, your bleak
Moon-fathomed, cavernous immensity
Strewn with the wrack of worlds, have left me weak.

Yet, Time, although you bind infinity,
Without these knowing eyes what could you see?
A world as barren now as when begun -
For all you've done's as nothing without me.