Classic Poem

If one of us two must break,
The luck that seeded my sky
With stars malign, or this heart of mine,
I swear it shan't be I.

He has pain and age at his back,
Crosses and frets enough;
I have laughter and love and a spirit of
Unconquerable stuff.

He has flouted my every step
All day on the windy wold;
A knave in grain, he has blurred my brain
And fooled me with fairy-gold.

All wrestle-stained I shall come
To the inn where the journey ends,
With an empty scrip, but a song on my lip
That may happen to make amends.