The Law That Changeth Not

Stern legislation of a Persian hand
Upon my heart, Love, strict Medean writ,
Must till the end of time and me command
Obeisance from him who fostered it.
All other codes may hide their littlest flaw
Toward which the hopeful prisoner may kneel;
I come of those who once they write a law
Do barricade themselves against appeal.

So stand I now condemned by mine own tort;
Extenuations? There is none to plead.
I am my own most ultimate resort;
There is no pardon for the stricken Mede.
I turn to go, half valiant, half absurd,
To perish on a promise, die on a word.