Even as two soldiers on a fortress wall
See the bright fire streak of a coming shell.
Catch breath, and wonder 'Which way will it fall?
To you? to me? or will it all be well?'
Ev'n so stood life and death, and could not tell
Whether she'd go to th'inn and find her son,
Or take the field and let the doom be done.
'No, not the inn,' she thought. 'People would talk.
I couldn't in the open daytime; no.
I'll just sit here upon the timber balk,