The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám

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LXXVII.

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.

LXXVIII.

What! out of senseless Nothing to provoke
A conscious Something to resent the yoke
    Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain
Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke!