DIVIDED by the dark, Our foils converge. A spark You kindled not, My Enemy, A spark I never drew From bitter fires that sear me through and through, Gleams fitfully. That spark, that little light, Is lit where foils unite. It lives in spite of us, My Foe; In intervening space, This little eye that darts from place to place Sees clear, I know. Opinions are not one, And man's criterion Is not in us. Between, above, The cross that weapons frame, My Adversary, gleams a truth whose name Might still be Love. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APRIL, 1885 by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES SONG OF SAUL BEFORE HIS LAST BATTLE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON JOHN MAYNARD by HORATIO ALGER JR. ROSE D'AMOUR by MATHILDE BLIND ON MR. FREDERICK PORTER'S ROOM OF PICTURES, 1930 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN WARNING AND REPLY by EMILY JANE BRONTE |