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.