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THE GUN FIGHT
Stern his eye and ever watchful,
Stranger to deceit or lie, And his creed thus plain and simple:
For the right 'tis good to die. Woman's honor, clean and spotless,
All unsoiled its garments white, Rested safe beneath his banner,
Tender, loyal, western knight.
Dark his foe and ever taunting,
Mocking lips and evil eyes, With a heart as foul as Hades,
With a hate that never dies. Words of cunning, cruel malice—
Lo, at last he speaks a name, That in all the border country,
Stands for woman's scarlet shame.
Swift the flash of true hand backward,
Then a bitter voice of doom; And a soul all hope-forsaken,
Fleeing thro' the outer gloom. Then the silence and the struggle
Of the shape upon the sod, And a choking, husky whisper
Of the awful name of God.