Too late to roll the tangled skein
The knot is taut, what might have been
Passed with the pangs of yesterday—
The secret page of history.
Red blood and white and black combine—
Can you dissever yours from mine?
Such motifs are not thus undone,
Like prowess might command the sun.
Too late to roll the tangled skein,
At first perhaps, this might have been,
’Tis now too hard and passing late
To disentwine the threads of Fate!