His bed uneasy and unbless'd his meal,
For three sad years the boy his tortures bore;
And then his pains and trials were no more.
}
"How died he, Peter?" when the people said,
}
He growl'd—"I found him lifeless in his bed;"
}
Then tried for softer tone, and sigh'd, "Poor Sam is dead."
Yet murmurs were there, and some questions ask'd—