Ha! gray-haired, and so strong!
How fearfully he stifles that short moan!
Gods! if I could but paint a dying groan!
“‘Pity’ thee! So I do!
I pity the dumb victim at the altar—
But does the robed priest for his pity falter?
I’d rack thee, though I knew
A thousand lives were perishing in thine—
What were ten thousand to a fame like mine?
“‘Hereafter!’ Ay—hereafter!