Two crises split when I knew they would
And sorry I could not tackle both
And be one tackler, long I stood
And fought the one as hard as I could
Until he fell, Goodness trumping Loath.
But then the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because he was injured, and needed care --
The time I'd spent in battle there
Had cost him dearly, and me the same.
Soon he and our foe equally lay
Quite dead, no hope of turning back;
If I'd only turned to him first that day!
Yet, knowing how way leads on to way,
I'd -- we'd -- not have lived through the next attack.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two choices, and in an instant, I --
I chose one, and set the other by;
And lost my heart in consequence.