The One

No, no; this is not true; my lips spoke only what my heart believed. Called I the world a toy; I spoke not echo-like or self-deceived. But that I thought the toy was mine to play with, and the passing show Would sate at least my passing lusts, and did not, therefore am I grieved.

What did I do that I must bear this lifelong tyranny of my fate, That I must writhe in bonds unsought of accidental love and hate? Had chance but joinèd different dice, but once or twice, but once or twice, All lovely things that I desired I should have held before too late.

Surely I knew that flesh was grass nor valued overmuch the prize, But all the powers of chance conspired to cheat a man both just and wise. Happy I'd been had I but had my due reward, and not a sword Flaming in diabolic hand between me and my Paradise.