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                                              For many hours . . . weeks, we clashed . . .
                                              "It's not the last
                                              We'll cross," I say;
                                              "Although the wounds you gave are vast,
                                              --We'll meet again another day!"

                                              "Although you have caused me to beg,
                                              And now you swag—
                                              ger—walk away—
                                              And have hacked off my knees—my legs,
                                              --We'll meet again another day!"

                                             "Although my heart you have sliced out,
                                             And now throughout
                                             The floor it lay,
                                             And now I'm but a shell, to flout,
                                             --We'll meet again another day!"

                                             "Yes, though I've been on defensive,
                                             And cannot give,
                                             And cannot pray,
                                             I still yet breathe, I still yet live--
                                             --We'll meet again another day!";

                                             Then Satan drops his bloody sword,
                                             And lowers towards
                                             The place below,
                                             And smiles . . . and cackles but two words:
                                             "--. . . I know! . . . . . . . . . . . . ."