These fatal words, this awful utterance, A beam where I, impaled, Would perish painfully in impotence, Though penitent I wailed . . .
These fatal words, this baleful, tyrant phrase, Still sieging, had assailed My soul as spoil, in militant arrays, And in my tomb prevailed . . .
These fatal words, a warrant for my death, Had not your love availed, You struck and cancelled with your final breath, And in my place travailed.
Since thus were slain these deadly words that day, And through your hands were nailed, I will not die, though I must surely say These fatal words, “I failed.”