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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384617" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Duel</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh many a duel the world has seen<br> That was bitter with hate, that was red with gore.<br>But I sing of a duel by far more cruel<br> Than ever a poet was sung before.<br>It was waged by night, yea by day and by night, <br> With never a pause or halt or rest, <br>And the curious spot where this battle was fought<br> Was the throbbing heart in a woman’s breast.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">There met two rivals in deadly strife, <br> And they fought for this woman so pale and proud.<br>One was a man in the prime of his life, <br> And one was a corpse in a moldy shroud; <br>One wrapped in a sheet from his head to his feet, <br> The other one clothed in worldly fashion; <br>But a rival to dread is a man who is dead, <br> If he has been loved in life with passion.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The living lover he battled with sighs, <br> He strove for the woman with words that burned, <br>While stiff and stark lay the corpse in the dark, <br> And silently yearned and yearned and yearned.<br>One spoke of the rapture that life still held<br> For hearts that yielded to love’s desire, <br>And one through the cold grave’s earthly mold<br> Sent thoughts of a past that were fraught with fire.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The living lover seized hold of her hands –<br> “You are mine, ” he cried, “and we will not part! ”<br>But she felt the clutch of the dead man’s touch<br> On the tense-drawn strings of her aching heart.<br>Yet the touch was of ice, and she shrank with fear –<br> Oh! the hands of the dead are cold, so cold –<br>And warm were the arms that waited near<br> To gather her close in their clinging fold.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And warm was the light in the living eyes, <br> But the eyes of the dead, how they stare and stare! <br>With sudden surrender she turned to the tender<br> And passionate lover who wooed her there.<br>Farewell to sorrow, hail, sweet to-morrow! <br> The battle was over, the duel was done.<br>They swooned in the blisses of love’s fond kisses, <br> And the dead man stared on in the dark alone.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ella+Wheeler+Wilcox">Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=384617" data-title="The Duel de Ella Wheeler Wilcox" data-description="Oh many a duel the world has seen
 That was bitter with hate, that was red with gore.
But I sing of a duel by far more cruel
 Than ever a poet was sung before.
It was waged by night, yea by day and by night, 
 With never a pause or halt or rest, 
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