TURN in, my lord, she said ; <br /> As it were the Father of Sin <br /> I have hated the Father of the Dead, <br /> The slayer of my kin ; <br /> By the Father of the Living led, <br /> Turn in, my lord, turn in. <br /> <br /> We were foes of old ; thy touch was cold, <br /> But mine is warm as life ; <br /> I have struggled and made thee loose thy hold, <br /> I have turned aside the knife. <br /> Despair itself in me was bold, <br /> I have striven, and won the strife. <br /> <br /> But that which conquered thee and rose <br /> Again to earth descends ; <br /> For the last time we have come to blows. <br /> And the long combat ends. <br /> The worst and secretest of foes, <br /> Be now my friend of friends.<br /><br />Mary Elizabeth Coleridge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-and-the-lady/
