The Rubaiyat Of Ohow Dryyam With Apologies To Omar

I     Wail! for the Law has scattered into flight     Those Drinks that were our sometime dear Delight;     And still the Morals-tinkers plot and plan     New, sterner, stricter Statutes to indite. II     After the phantom of our Freedom died     Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried:     "Drink coffee, Lads, for that is all that's left     Since our Land of the Free is washed--and dried." [Illustration:     And still the Morals-tinkers plot and plan     New, sterner, stricter Statutes to indite.] III     The Haigs indeed are gone, and on the Nose     That bourgeoned once with color of the rose     A deathly Pallor sits, while down the lane     Where once strode Johnny Walker--Water goes. IV     Come, fill the Cup, and in the Coffee-house     We'll learn a new and temperate Carouse--     The Bird of Time flies with a steadier wing     But roosts with sleepless Eye--a Coffee Souse! V     Each morn a thousand Recipes, you say--     Yes, but where match the beer of Yesterday?     And those Spring Months that used to bring the Bock     Seem very long ago and far away. [Illustration:     The Bird of Time flies with a steadier wing     But roosts with sleepless Eye--a Coffee Souse!] VI     A Book of Blue Laws underneath the Bough,     A pot of Tea, a piece of Toast,--and Thou     Beside me sighing in the Wilderness--     Wilderness? It's Desert, Sister, now. VII     Some for a Sunday without Taint, and Some     Sigh for Inebriate Paradise to come,     While Moonshine takes the Cash (no Credit goes)     And real old Stuff demands a Premium. [Illustration:     A Book of Blue Laws underneath the Bough,     A pot of Tea, a piece of Toast,--and Thou ...] VIII     The Scanty Stock we set our hearts upon     Still dwindles and declines until anon,     Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face,     It lights us for an hour and then--is gone. IX     Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears     TODAY of past Regrets and future Fears--     Tomorrow!--Why, Tomorrow I may be     In Canada or Scotland or Algiers! X     Yes, make the most of what we still may spend;     The last Drop's lingering Taste may yet transcend     Anticipation's Bliss--though we are left     Sans Wine, Sans Song, Sans Singer, and--Sans End. [Illustration:     The Scanty Stock we set our hearts upon ...] XI     Alike for those who for the Drouth prepared     And those who, like myself, more poorly fared,     Fond Memory weaves Roseate Shrouds to dress     Departed Spirits we have loved--and shared. XII     Myself when young did eagerly frequent     The gilded Bar, and all my Lucre spent     For bottled Joyousness, but evermore     Came out less steadily than in I went. XIII     The legal Finger writes; and having writ,     Moves on--and neither Thirst nor Wit     Has lured it back to cancel half a line     To give a Man excuse for being lit. [Illustration:     Myself when young did eagerly frequent     The gilded Bar ...] XIV     And Bill the Bootlegger--the Infidel!--     When He takes my last Cent for just a Smell     Of Hooch, I wonder what Bootleggers buy     One half so precious as the Stuff they sell. XV     Oh Bill, Who dost with White Mule and with Gin     Beset the Road I am to Wander in,     If I am garnered of the Law, wilt Thou,     All piously, Impute my Fall to Sin? [Illustration:     And Bill the Bootlegger--the Infidel!--] XVI     Yon rising Moon that looks for us again--     How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;     But, Oh, how oft before we have beheld     Six Moons arise--who now seek Two in vain. XVII     And when Thyself at last shall come to trip     Down that dim Dock where Charon loads his Ship,     I'll meet Thee on the other Wharf if Thou     Wilt promise to have Something on thy Hip. [Illustration:     But, Oh, how oft before we have beheld     Six Moons arise ...]