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.