yet 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.