His Ally

HE fought for his soul, and the stubborn fighting

Tried hard his strength.

“One needs seven souls for thin long requiting,”

He said at length.

“Six times have I come where my first hope jeered me

And laughed me to scorn;

But now I fear as I never feared me

To fall forlorn.

“God! when they fight upright and at me

I give them back

Even such blows as theirs that combat me;

But now, alack!

“They fight with the wiles of fiends escaping

And underhand.

Six times, O God, and my wounds are gaping!

I—reel to stand.

“Six battles’ span! By this gasping breath,

No pantomime.

’Tis all that I can. I am sick unto death.

And—a seventh time?

“This is beyond all battles’ soreness!”

Then his wonder cried:

For Laughter, with shield and steely harness,

Stood up at his side!