No Second Troy
by William Butler Yeats
Why should I blame her that she filled my days
With misery, or that she would of late
Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways,
Or hurled the little streets upon the great.
Had they but courage equal to desire?
What could have made her peaceful with a mind
That nobleness made simple as a fire,
With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind
That is not natural in an age like this,
Being high and solitary and most stern?
Why, what could she have done, being what she is?
Was there another Troy for her to burn?
No Second Chance
by GrayBaikal
Why should I blame him that he filled my days
With joyfulness, or that he would before
Have learned from ignorant men most terrible ways,
Or prowled the great streets under dark cover.
Had they courage equal to self-loathe?
What could have made him calm with a body
That carefulness destroyed simple as smoke,
With beauty like a mist-kissed leaf, a kind
That is not unnatural in an age like this,
Being low and miserable and most regretful?
Why, what could he have done, being what he is?
Was there another Chance for him to burn?