Edward Fitzgerald was a major literary figure, and poet, whose stature has probably not yet been fully appreciated. His translations of Omar Khayyam's Rubaiyat are gracious, penetrating, and brilliant: his best was the first one, which touches on the heart of mysteries of Sufism that had yet to be touched on in English literature. People who have expressed the view that the Rubaiyat is simply courtly hedonism are very much mistaken; the work to be read here is the commentary on Fitzgerald's work by Paramhansa Yogananda, edited by Donald Waters published by Crystal Clarity, Nevada.
I find, as a poet myself, Fitzgerald's work to be utterly brilliant, and something that plumbs great depths. Richard Stanley-Baker
The Meadows In Spring
'Tis a dull sight To see the year dying, When winter winds Set the yellow wood sighing: Sighing, oh! sighing.
When such a time cometh, I do retire Into and old room