Classic Poem

Thus far, no further! tyrant of the skies,
Thus far, no further! mighty Lord of life,
Here, where I crouch beneath Thy minion's knife,
Here where my wounded hands and bleeding eyes
Speak loud, where every shattered member cries,
Unheeded, not for mercy but the End —
Without a helper and without a friend —
My body quails, but still my soul defies,
Defies Thee now, and shall defy Thee still
When, ringed with angels, I shall stand alone
Judged and condemned before Thy judgment seat,
And hear Thee utter Thy almighty will.
Thus far, no further! what is Thine to kill
Kill it. Not this : for this is still my own.