IMMORTALS (The Ballad Of Reading Gaol )- OSCAR WILDE.

Each man kills the thing he loves

    By each let this be heard,

Some do it with a bitter look,

    Some with a flattering word,

The coward does it with a kiss,

    The brave man with a sword!

Some kill their love when they are young,

    And some when they are old,

Some strangle with the hands of Lust,

    Some with the hands of Gold:

The kindest use a knife, because

    The dead so soon grow cold.
Some love too little, some too long,

    Some sell, and others buy;

Some do the deed with many tears,

    And some without a sigh:

For each man kills the thing he loves

       Yet each man does not die.

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