Perplext no more with Human or Divine, To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign, And lose your fingers in the tresses of The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine. The sentiment of this quatrain is very recurrent. I think that FitzGerald's first inspiration comes from O. 73. Set limits to thy desire for worldly things and live content, Sever the bonds of thy dependence upon the good and bad of life, Take wine in hand and (play with) the curls of a loved one; for quickly All passeth away--and these few days will not remain. _Ref._: O. 73, C. 179, L. 256, B. 253, S.P. 176.--W. 191, N. 176, V. 262. Ll. 3 and 4 of O. 118 suggest the quatrain also. Let us cease to strive after our long delaying hope[51] And play with long ringlets and the handle of the lute. _Ref._: O. 118, L. 571, B. 564, S.P. 293, B. ii. 391.--W. 332, N. 294, V. 611. Ll. 1 and 2 of O. 131 are also in point: Flee from the study of all sciences--'tis better thus, And twine thy fingers in the curly locks of a loved one--'tis better thus. _Ref._: O. 131, C. 443, L. 670, B. 662, S.P. 356, P. 296, B. ii. 480, T. 276, P. v. 158.--W. 426, N. 359, V. 719. FitzGerald was probably «reminded of» these by Nicolas whose quatrains 48, 155, and 359 (C. 443) convey the same idea. XLII. And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press, End in what All begins and ends in--Yes; Think then you are TO-DAY what YESTERDAY You were--TO-MORROW you shall not be less. The inspiration for this quatrain is contained in the following, O. 102 and C. 412. Khayyam, if thou art drunk with wine,[52] be happy, If thou reposest with one tulip-cheeked, be happy, Since the end of all things is that thou wilt be naught, Whilst thou art, imagine that thou art not--be happy! _Ref._: O. 102, C. 291, L. 454, B. 450, S.P. 241, P. 202, B. ii. 322, T. 192 and 296, P. iv. 26, P. v. 5.--W. 282, N. 242, V. 493. Remember not the day that has passed away from thee, Be not hard upon the morrow that has not come, Think not about thine own coming or departure, Drink wine _now_, and fling not thy life to the winds. _Ref._: C. 412, L. 619, B. 611, P. 116, B. ii. 444, P. v. 121.--V. 666. XLIII. So when that Angel of the darker Drink At last shall find you by the river-brink, And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul Forth to your Lips to quaff--you shall not shrink. This quatrain owes its origin to C. 256.[53] In the circle of the firmament, whose depths are invisible, There is a cup which, in due time, they will cause all to drink; When thy turn comes, do not utter lamentations, Drink wine gaily for it has come to be thy turn. _Ref._: C. 256, L. 408, B. 404, B. ii. 273.--W. 254, V. 431. XLIV. Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, And naked on the Air of Heaven ride, Were't not a Shame--were't not a Shame for him In this clay carcase crippled to abide?