Versamelde gedigte

Aomed

Aomed, amber-eyed, austerely chaste,

And overbold through being so,

Early decided that he could not waste

His gold upon a furbelow.

But he was tempted by the treacherous Jinn
That came to plague his peace with mortal sin.

Aomed, struggling fiercely to control

A passion hitherto so mild,

Cried in the anguish of his stricken soul,

‘Avaunt, I will not be defiled.’

Whereat it merely glanced with mute surprise,
Slightly indignant, in his amber eyes.

Aomed, feeling utterly absurd

(For chaste austerity should awe

The most chatoyant charmer), spoke no word,

But pondered what he saw.

And while the Jinn worked on him with their spell,
Decided, wisely, that he might as well.

Aomed, bent, milk-bearded, almost blind,

Rests on his soft divan and dreams

Of times long past when his youth-planning mind

Devised for life most virtuous schemes,

And his old drooling lips smile crookedly
While he reflects on chaste austerity.