Explore "Victor and Vanquished" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
As one who long hath fled with panting breath / Before his foe, bleeding and near to fall, / I turn and set my back against the wall, / And look thee in the face, triumphant Death, / I call for aid, and no one answereth; / I am alone with thee, who conquerest all; / Yet me thy threatening form doth not appall, / For thou art but a phantom and a wraith. / Wounded and weak, sword broken at the hilt, / With armor shattered, and without a shield, / I stand unmoved; do with me what thou wilt; / I can resist no more, but will not yield. / This is no tournament where cowards tilt; / The vanquished here is victor of the field.