I clutched at life:

And cared but little that his lips

Should curl, to see me, broken,

A slave among his slaves.

Yet, never slave of his was I;

Nor did I take my new life from his nod--

I ... I who could have torn

The proud life out of him,

Before his guards could stay me...

Had she not sat beside him, on her throne.

And he, who knew not then,

Nor ever, till to-day,

Has known me aught but slave,

Remembering that time,

Spake doom of death to me,

Idly, as to a slave:

And I await the end of night,

And dawn of death,

Even as a slave awaits...

Nay! as the unvanquished veteran

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