Classic Poem

Morning

Here are the lists! Upon the bloody sands
In coal-black armor shrouded, silent, grim,
With naked blade, my foe, to stay me, stands, —
But am not I alike unknown to him?

Evening

After a thousand strokes received and given,
Bleeding I lie, but master of the field.
Yet, had I known his might, durst I have striven? —
My foe's, who died but knew not how to yield!