This poem from Clark Ashton Smith (CAS) was unpublished in his lifetime, and is not available on The Eldritch Dark, so here's the complete text:
When cup by cup the wine-bearer shall pour
For Omar and his guest my golden store,
Till only slow, black, sullen dregs remain--
Make haste, and fill me to the brim once more.
This little tribute to Omar Khayyam seems like an introduction to the next poem from CAS that I will be reading: "To Omar Khayyam". Being unfamiliar with Khayyam's work, this is new territory for me, so I'm curious to see what CAS has to say in the longer poem.