Death and the Lady

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

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