<SPAN name="THE_CHOICE"></SPAN>THE CHOICE.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Comrade, now that you're merry<br/>
And therefore true,<br/>
Say—where would you like to die<br/>
And have your friend to bury<br/>
What once was you?<br/>
"On the top of a hill<br/>
With a peaceful view<br/>
Of country where all is still?"...<br/>
Great God, not I!<br/>
I'd lie in the street<br/>
Where two streams meet<br/>
And there's noise enough to fill<br/>
The outer ear,<br/>
While within the brain can beat<br/>
Marches of death and life,<br/>
Glory and joy and fear,<br/>
Peace of the sort that moves<br/>
And clash of strife<br/>
And routs of armies fleeing.<br/>
There would I shake myself clear<br/>
Out of the deep-set grooves<br/>
Of my sluggish being.<br/>
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