He Who Has One Enemy Shall Meet

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.

Be Happy For This Moment. This Moment Is Your Life.

And This I Know; Whether The One True Light Kindle To Love, Or Wrath Consume Me Quite, One Flash Of It Within The Tavern Caught Better Than In The Temple Lost Outright.

And That Inverted Bowl They Call The Sky, Whereunder Crawling Cooped We Live And Die, Lift Not Your Hands To It For Help-for It As Impotently Moves As You Or I

But Helpless Pieces Of The Game He Plays Upon This Checker-board Of Nights And Days; Hither And Thither Moves, And Checks, And Slays, And One By One Back In The Closet Lays.