Would we turn back the wheel of Time,
And live this life all o’er?
Take up the threads of life anew,
And weave them as before?

Methinks I hear you say “Ah no!”
Life’s fabric is worn out.
The colors too, have lost their hue.—
I would not turn about

And live my life all o’er again,
Unless I could improve
Upon the game of Life I’ve played;
More skillfully could move.

For I have oft made dire mistakes,
Made errors in Life’s deal,
And could I change the game, would it
Add something to my weal?

I never learned Life’s game quite right;
Mistakes I ever made,
And if I gained a single point,
My ignorance next outweighed

All I had gained in former move.
I ever lost in game.
It seems I ever lacked in skill,
If so, I’m not to blame.

And now the game I must give up,
But I will not despair.
I will begin all o’er again—
Defeat I cannot bear.

But it will not be on this earth;
For here I’m done with life.
I’ve played Life’s game, and ever lost,
To live is naught but strife.