The jewel-encrusted edition of the Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
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The Koran! well, come put me to the test — Lovely old book in hideous error drest — Believe me, I can quote the Koran too, The unbeliever knows his Koran best.
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.
So I be written in the Book of Love, I have no care about that book above; Erase my name, or write it, as you please— So I be written in the Book of Love.