Postscriptum: September 1913
I, Adam, saw this life begin And lived in Eden without sin, Until the fruit of knowledge I ate And lost my gracious primal state. I, Nero, fiddled while Rome burned: I saw my empire overturned, And proudly to my murderers cried-- An artist dies in me! -- and died. And though sometimes in swoon of sense I now regain my innocence, I pay still for my knowledge, and still Remain the fool of good and ill. And though my tyrant days are o'er I earn my tyrant's fate the more If now secure within my walls I fiddle while my country falls.
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