In the whole sweep of History

My life is not one jot

My life spent in striving

For the praise and not the blot

The stacked cards of fortune

For another’s hand to play

The crumbs of adventure

Mine to drop long the way

The route convoluted

I’m just glad not to account

For each bye-way taken

For each summit I did mount

The slate wiped behind me

Each day’s options filled anew

Not mine the assessment

One more suited knows what’s true


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