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“And do you think that unto such as you, A maggot-minded, starved, fanatic crew, God gave the Secret, and denied it me?-- Well, well, what matters it! believe that too. Old Khayyám, say you, is a debauchee; If only you were half so good as he! He sins no sins but gentle drunkenness, Great-hearted mirth and kind adultery. But yours the cold heart, and the murderous tongue, The wintry soul that hates to hear a song, The close-shut fist, the mean and measuring eye, And all the little poisoned ways of wrong.” — Omar Khayyám
And do you think that unto such as you,
A maggot-minded, starved, fanatic crew,
God gave the Secret, and denied it me?--
Well, well, what matters it! believe that too.
Old Khayyám, say you, is a debauchee;
If only you were half so good as he!
He sins no sins but gentle drunkenness,
Great-hearted mirth and kind adultery.
But yours the cold heart, and the murderous tongue,
The wintry soul that hates to hear a song,
The close-shut fist, the mean and measuring eye,
And all the little poisoned ways of wrong.