Nemesis
I hide my scars; I hide my sins from men,
It needs but little guile
To drape them with a rainbow mist of words,
To veil them with a tear or a smile.
From mine ownself I hide them all away
With glozes and with lies.
Blindfolded, dupe of very shame I stand,
Not daring penetrate the thin disguise.
I hide them even — so I dream — from God,
With penitence and prayer:
I nail my craven sins upon a Cross,
Or bury them to keep my conscience fair.
With cunning and with care I hide them all
Deep out of all men's sight;
And walk the world erect, and proud, and free,
Fearing no inquisition of the light.
Yet in my heart, against my will, I know
That all my sins survive,
That in my inner being still they turn,
Like demons buried in a grave alive.
Dying, they will not die, nor will the dark
Their agony conceal;
Still in the silences a curse or sigh
Their mortal immortality reveal.
Though they be crucified and sepulchred,
Masked and disguised so well,
Yet in my dreams they haunt me evermore,
With flickering visions of the flames of hell.
No Lethe is there for my Memories,
No manner of escape
Suppressed; from the subliminal they surge
In some unholy and fantastic shape.
Yea, deep in caverns of my being lurk
Forms festering and foul,
And in the watches of the night I hear
The dying, never-dying demons howl,
And this will be the Nemesis of sin —
That when at last I die,
I shall stand undisguised in all men's sight,
A hollow hypocrite who lived a Lie. —
That, naked of all trappings and disguise,
My spirit will be seen
By Man, who paid me honour, and by God,
Deformed, and despicable, and unclean. —
That secrets in a sepulchre entombed
Will be again revealed,
And ghastly, in the ruthless light, will stare
My sins unshriven, and my wounds unhealed.
That will be hell, but deeper hell to see
Myself, my hidden face,
And know that evermore I must be bound
Unto a soul so pitiful and base,
Without a lie to save me from the truth,
To shield me from my shame —
That will be penance for a thousand sins,
Eternal torment, in eternal flame.
It needs but little guile
To drape them with a rainbow mist of words,
To veil them with a tear or a smile.
From mine ownself I hide them all away
With glozes and with lies.
Blindfolded, dupe of very shame I stand,
Not daring penetrate the thin disguise.
I hide them even — so I dream — from God,
With penitence and prayer:
I nail my craven sins upon a Cross,
Or bury them to keep my conscience fair.
With cunning and with care I hide them all
Deep out of all men's sight;
And walk the world erect, and proud, and free,
Fearing no inquisition of the light.
Yet in my heart, against my will, I know
That all my sins survive,
That in my inner being still they turn,
Like demons buried in a grave alive.
Dying, they will not die, nor will the dark
Their agony conceal;
Still in the silences a curse or sigh
Their mortal immortality reveal.
Though they be crucified and sepulchred,
Masked and disguised so well,
Yet in my dreams they haunt me evermore,
With flickering visions of the flames of hell.
No Lethe is there for my Memories,
No manner of escape
Suppressed; from the subliminal they surge
In some unholy and fantastic shape.
Yea, deep in caverns of my being lurk
Forms festering and foul,
And in the watches of the night I hear
The dying, never-dying demons howl,
And this will be the Nemesis of sin —
That when at last I die,
I shall stand undisguised in all men's sight,
A hollow hypocrite who lived a Lie. —
That, naked of all trappings and disguise,
My spirit will be seen
By Man, who paid me honour, and by God,
Deformed, and despicable, and unclean. —
That secrets in a sepulchre entombed
Will be again revealed,
And ghastly, in the ruthless light, will stare
My sins unshriven, and my wounds unhealed.
That will be hell, but deeper hell to see
Myself, my hidden face,
And know that evermore I must be bound
Unto a soul so pitiful and base,
Without a lie to save me from the truth,
To shield me from my shame —
That will be penance for a thousand sins,
Eternal torment, in eternal flame.
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