Toast to Omar Khayyám

Chorus.
In this red wine, where Memory's eyes seem glowing,
And days when wines were bright by Ouse and Cam,
And Norfolk's foaming nectar glittered, showing
What beard of gold John Barleycorn was growing,
We drink to thee, right heir of Nature's knowing,
Omar Khayyám!

I.
Star-gazer, who canst read, when Night is strewing
Her scriptured orbs on Time's wide oriflamme,
Nature's proud blazon: "Who shall bless or damn?
Life, Death, and Doom are all of my bestowing!"
Chorus: Omar Khayyám!

II.
Poet, whose stream of balm and music, flowing
Through Persian gardens, widened till it swam —
A fragrant tide no bank of Time shall dam —
Through Suffolk meads, where gorse and may were blowing,
Chorus: Omar Khayyám!

III.
Who blent thy song with sound of cattle lowing,
And caw of rooks that perch on ewe and ram,
And hymn of lark, and bleat of orphan lamb,
And swish of scythe in Bredfield's dewy mowing?
Chorus: Omar Khayyám!

IV.
'Twas Fitz, "Old Fitz," whose knowledge, farther going
Than lore of Omar, "Wisdom's starry Cham,"
Made richer still thine opulent epigram:
Sowed seed from seed of thine immortal sowing.
Chorus: Omar Khayyám!

In this red wine, where Memory's eyes seem glowing,
And days when wines were bright by Ouse and Cam,
And Norfolk's foaming nectar glittered, showing
What beard of gold John Barleycorn was growing,
We drink to thee till, hark! the cock is crowing!
Omar Khayyám!