JAMAIS
I was rich in pure affection,
Passions chastened and alert—
But my rival had perfection
In the opulence of—dirt.
He but wooed thee to deceive thee,
Won thee, only to betray;
Shall that shadow ever leave thee?
Never while I live—Jamais!
Time is just, and Fate’s surrender
Comes like chrism and myrrh to me.
He is quelled in coffined splendor,
Hearsed in marble mimicry.
I—though Arctic years have chilled me,
Thrust my stature in the day;
But the voice that erst has thrilled me,
Thrills no more—Jamais! Jamais!
Though with purpose unbenighted,
Though with intellect unshorn,
Still my spirit maimed and blighted,
Bleeds beyond its battle morn.
Herbless deserts demon-haunted,
Mark the fury of the fray,
But that spirit, still undaunted,
Bends to thee—Jamais! Jamais!
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