Who shall shrive the soul of a shark?
Slides the coffin deep in the ground;
Earth knocks the lid with a hollow sound!
It lies in state, and the silver'd plate
Glares in the ghastly sepulchre round!
Death has his dole!
At last, at last the body's nail'd fast!
But who has the soul?
See a mourner slowly retire,
With a conscience ill at ease