Poems (Dodd)/The Duelist

THE DUELIST.

Thou art a murderer! Thy hand
Has taken life away,
And ever in thy memory
The record dark shall stay;
The record of a brother man,
Whose life the Father gave,
By thee, in manhood's summer years,
Sent to the silent grave.

Think of the orphan ones, deprived
Of a fond father's care;
The weeping wife whose sunny hopes
Are darkened by despair.
O, couldst thou meet her anguished look,
Her sad reproachful eye,
I would not wish that thou shouldst know
A deeper agony.

Though human laws take no revenge,
For blood thus idly shed,
There is a monitor within,
A vision of the dead:
Thou canst not fly thy punishment;
Ah, vain were such belief;
All day the thought shall follow thee,
And night bring no relief.

As still with slow and leaden pace,
The weary years depart,
The canker of remorse shall eat,
More deep into thy heart.
O, happier far is he who sleeps,
So coldly slain by thee,
For thine shall be a living death,
Thy curse is memory.

"Thou shalt not kill." How long, O Lord!
Will this command be vain,
Men in high offices of trust,
From murder to restrain?
Shall honor's code make void the law,
Which God to man has given?
And those in power uphold the sin?
Forbid! forbid it, Heaven!