Page:The Spell of the Yukon and Other Verses.djvu/76



One said: Thy life is thine to make or mar, To flicker feebly, or to soar, a star; It lies with thee—the choice is thine, is thine, To hit the ties or drive thy auto-car.

I answered Her: The choice is mine—ah, no! We all were made or marred long, long ago. The parts are written; hear the super wail: "Who is stage-managing this cosmic show?"

Blind fools of fate and slaves of circumstance, Life is a fiddler, and we all must dance. From gloom where mocks that will-o'-wisp, Free-will I heard a voice cry: "Say, give us a chance."