The Spike: or, Victoria University College Review, June 1916
A Sonnet
A Sonnet.
Nay! Christ! I seek no pity at Thy Throne!
Nor do I kneel and make a moan, and show
My heart, with all its heritage of woe
To Thee, whose passion scarce exceeds my own.
Nay! Christ! For now I am a man full-grown,
And take my stand, and hold Thy Cross I know
Desert'd by thy God Thou diedst, alone—
So now against the sky I hold my face—
No mercy do I ask, no homage give—
But lift my voice, and cry thro' endless space
I have my right to die—my right to live—
And triumphing—to spurn Him at the end,
Who proved at last to Thee so false a friend.
—R.