“Then, ’twas truth,” he cried, “floated o’er the sea—
Dead—and by thy own hand—and, Queen, for Me!
But by the Stars, by all the Gods I know,
By what Pow’rs punish perjuries below—
Against, I swear, my heart’s will, by commands
Divine, I left thy shore for other lands.
To please, not myself, but because I must,
I pace Shadow-land, mouldy with the rust,
Miseries, aches of folly and of crime,—
Accumulated hoardings of old Time.