The Law That Changeth Not
STERN legislation of a Persian handUpon my heart, Love, strict Medean writ,Must till the end of time and me commandObeisance from him who fostered it.All other codes may hide their littlest flawToward which the hopeful prisoner may kneel;I come of those who once they write a lawDo barricade themselves against appeal.
So stand I now condemned by mine own tort;Extenuations? There is none to plead.I am my own most ultimate resort;There is no pardon for the stricken Mede.I turn to go, half valiant, half absurd,To perish on a promise, die on a word.
57
