Workout Log 17 September 2012
“There is a homestead down in an old Maine town, with lilacs round the gate,
And the Northerners whisper: “It might have been,” but the truth has come too late.
They say they give me a month to live–a month or a year’s the same;
I haven’t the heart to play my part to the end of a losing game.
For whenever you play, whatever the way, for stakes that are large or small,
The claws of the tropics will gather your pile, and the dealer gets it all!”