Scamp like that get away; don’t I wish now that I’d ha’
Drove a brace of lead pills through the horse or the rider;
Pr’aps there’s time for it still—Mein auge (my eye),
’Tis the only chance left, so here goes for a try.”
Oh, faster spur thy flagging steed,
Still faster,—fearful is thy need.
Oh, heed not now his failing breath,
Life lies before, behind thee death!
Warning all vainly given! too late
To shield thee from the stroke of fate.