EDWARD FITZGERALD.

Though still the famous Book of Kings
With strange memorial music rings,
Firdausi's muse is dead and gone
As Kai-kobad and Feridon,
And Rustum and his pahlawan
Are cold as prehistoric man.

- KHAYYAM still lives: his magic rhyme

Is forged of spells that conquer Time,
The hopes and doubts, the joys and pains,
That never end while Man remains;
The sin, the sorrow, and the strife
Of good and ill in human life;

Such themes can ne'er grow stale and old

xxiv

EDWARD FITZGERALD.

Till One arose on English earth
Who to his music gave new birth.
Henceforth, so long as English speech
Shall through the coming ages reach,
The name of KHAYYÁM will go down
With such a glory of renown
As ne'er on Eastern poet's brow

Has poured its radiance until now.

- And Who has wrought this spell of might

That brings the hidden gem to light?

'Twas One who touched his harp, unseen,

Who never wished to lift the screen

That hid him from the outer throng,
But blameless lived and sang his
In modest tones, not over-loud,

To shun the plaudits of the crowd.

song

Now that we know him now, at last,
When o'er the threshold he hath passed -
We'll love with love that knows no change
The Hermit-bard of Little Grange.

MIMKAF.

OMAR KHAYYÁM'S GRAVE.

N reference to the allusion quoted from Nizami (on page 6) to Omar Khayyám's prophecy about his own. grave, the following letter from Nishapur will have a considerable interest. The writer is a man of wide reputation as one of the travelling artists of the Illustrated London News:

DEAR MR. QUARITCH:

NISHAPUR, 27th October, 1884.

From the association of your name with that of Omar Khayam I feel sure that what I enclose in this letter will be acceptable. The rose-leaves I gathered to-day, growing beside the tomb of the poet at this place, and the seeds are from the same bushes on which the leaves grew.*

I suppose you are aware that I left early last month with Sir Peter Lumsden to accompany the Afghan Boundary Commission in my old capacity as special artist for the Illustrated London News. We travelled by way of the Black Sea, Tiflis, Baku, and the Caspian, to

* These seeds were handed over to Mr. Baker, of Kew Gardens, who planted them, and they have grown up successfully, but as yet they have not produced flowers.

Tehran; from that place we have been marching eastward for nearly a month now, and we reached Nishapur this morning.

For some days past, as we marched along, I have been making inquiries regarding Omar Khayam and Nishapur; I wanted to know if the house he lived in still existed, or if any spot was yet associated with his name. It would seem that the only recognised memorial now remaining of him is his tomb. Our Mehmandar, or "Guest-Conductor," while the Afghan Boundary Commission is on Persian territory it is the Guest of the Shah, and the Mehmandar is his representative, who sees that all our wants are attended to,- appears to be familiar with the poet's name, and says that his works are still read and admired. The Mehmandar said he knew the tomb, and promised to be our guide when we reached Nishapur. We have just made the pilgrimage to the spot; it is about two miles south of the present Nishapur; so we had to ride, and Sir Peter, who takes an interest in the matter, was one of the party. We found the ground nearly all the way covered with mounds, and the soil mixed with fragments of pottery, sure indications of former habitations. As we neared the tomb, long ridges of earth could be seen, which were no doubt the remains of the walls of the old city of Nishapur. To the east of the tomb is a large square mound of earth, which is supposed to be the site of the Ark, or Citadel of the original city. As we rode along, the blue dome, which the Mehmandar had pointed out on the way as the tomb, had a very imposing appearance, and its importance improved as we neared it; this will be better understood by stating that city walls, houses, and almost all structures in that part of Persia, are built of mud. The blue dome, as well as its

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size, produced in my mind, as we went towards it, a great satisfaction; it was pleasing to think that the countrymen of Omar Khayam held him in such high estimation as to erect so fine a monument, as well as to preserve it, this last being rarely done in the East,to his memory. If the poet was so honoured in his own country, it was little to be wondered at that his fame should have spread so rapidly in the lands of the West. This I thought, but there was a slight disappointment in store for me. At last we reached the tomb, and found its general arrangements were on a plan I was familiar with in India; whoever has visited the Taj at Agra, or any of the large Mohammedan tombs of Hindostan, will easily understand the one at Nishapur. The monument stands in a space enclosed by a mud wall, and the ground in front is laid out as a garden, with walks. The tomb at Nishapur, with all its surroundings, is in a very rude condition; it never was a work which could claim merit for its architecture, and although it is kept so far in repair, it has still a very decayed and neglected appearance. Even the blue dome, which impressed me in the distance, I found on getting near to it was in a ruinous state from large portions of the enamelled plaster having fallen off. Instead of the marble and the red stone of the Taj at Nishapur, with the exception of some enamelled tiles producing a pattern round the base of the dome, and also in the spandrils of the door and windows,- there we find only bricks and plaster. The surrounding wall of the enclosure was of crumbling mud, and could be easily jumped over at any place. There is a rude entrance by which we went in and walked to the front of the tomb; all along I had been under the notion that the whole structure was the tomb of Omar Khayam;