Should I one day run into Trotsky,
I think I'd shake like a child:
How could I look him in the eye,
That eye so far from mild?
Like Tommy coming home again,
He'd ask me what I'd done
And what could I say to placate him?
"I did my best, Old Man" — ?
And could I tell the stark flat truth:
I did the best I could,
Weighed down by me, a timid youth,
Ignorant as aul King Lud;
That I joined his routed army, beneath
Its flag of inconsequence:
Joined a movement mad as death,
That I hack my way toward sense?
So yes, if I one day met Trotsky
I'd blush like the child I bagan;
But then I'd say, that eye on me:
"I will do my best, Old Man!"