See how the tartar sneaks from thence—
Ah! see—his jaws have hold! * * *
His little lambkin victim dies:
Then, with accustom’d skill,
He hurls it on his back, and flies
Home to the stony-hill.
There in his haunt (rocks and dank earth),
The daring burglar spills
His victim’s blood, with brigand’s mirth,
And sends it forth in rills * * *