When from a distance came the tramp of horse,
While louder still the spectre madly cries,
'Revenge, revenge, ere chance for ever flies!'
'Twas dark, I groped until the babe I found,
Then scrunched its neck, until without a sound
It died—then flung it lifeless to the ground.
A knock, a call, the door wide open flew,
With hurried step the stranger hastens through.
"The child! be quick, I'm 'fore the hour I told,
But there you'll find the promised sum of gold.'