THE CHOICE
 
 The intellect of man is forced to choose
 perfection of the life, or of the work,
 And if it take the second must refuse
 A heavenly mansion, raging in the dark.
 When all that story's finished, what's the news?
 In luck or out the toil has left its mark:
 That old perplexity an empty purse,
 Or the day's vanity, the night's remorse.