Words for the Chisel (collection)/Truce
For works with similar titles, see Truce.
Truce
Fine down your weapons, weary enemy,And I will bind the wounds I just now gave;Ah, keep your strength and all your poise and saveYour passion for tomorrow, when with meYou meet in naked grapple. Who but weShould heal each other, wounded, who but we,My tall antagonist, terrible and brave?
Some day beside each other we shall lieAnd bleed, and ebb, and separately die:Beyond this shock of battle, there will beNo warrior for our valor, in the grave.Forbear to wound me utterly, unlessThe time has come for that long loneliness.