And while they threat'ning from his door withdrew,
}
370
He bow'd politely low, and bade them all adieu.
But lives the man by whom such deeds are done?
Yes, many such—but Swallow's race is run;
His name is lost;—for, though his sons have name,
It is not his, they all escape the shame;
Nor is there vestige now of all he had,
His means are wasted, for his heir was mad.