Nearly They Stood...

Nearly they stood who fall

Themselves, when they look back

See always in the track

One torturing spot where all

By a possible quick swerve

Of will yet unenslaved

By the infinitesimal twitching of a nerve

Might have been saved.

Nearly they fell who stand

These with cold after fear

Look back and note how near

They grazed the Siren’s land

Wondering to think that fate

By treads so spidery fine

The choice of ways so small, the event so great

Should thus entwine.

Therefore I sometimes fear

Lest oldest fears be true

Lest, when no bugle blew

My mort, when skies looked clear

I may have stepped one hair’s

Breadth past the hair-breath bourne

Which, being once crossed forever unawares

Forbids return.