SONNET TO NEMESIS, GODDESS OF REMORSE
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O Nemesis, thou goddess born of Night,
Thou younger sister of stern Death and Sleep, Close-couched art thou with those grim Three who keep The spun and measured threads of life aright; O Nemesis, that shuns each form of light, By night o'er all the world thy glance doth sweep To seek out crime, its penalty to reap When rosy dawn has put the stars to flight. Thy fateful voice rings dread from age to age, Oft times as baying dog or hooting owl; And clear upon thy all-recording page Is writ each deed e'er done with purpose foul. Not even can thy brother Death assuage Thy pangs, Remorse, more dread than Cerberus' growl. |