Some of you will be glad I did what I did,

And the rest won’t want to punish me too severely

For finding a thing to do that though not forbid

Yet wasn’t enjoined and wasn’t expected clearly.

To punish me over cruelly wouldn’t be right

For merely giving you once more gentle proof

That the city’s hold on a man is no more tight

Than when its walls rose higher than any roof.

You may taunt me with not being able to flee the earth.

You have me there, but loosely as I would be held.

The way of understanding is partly mirth.

I would not be taken as ever having rebelled.

And anyone is free to condemn me to death—

If he leaves it to nature to carry out the sentence.

I shall will to the common stock of air my breath

And pay a death-tax of fairly polite repentance.