His hoped-for bliss to gain,

The illusion suddenly to break,

He finds the dream deceitful fled!

A cold stiff corpse the shape to take,

And scaffold in its stead.

And hears the mournful funeral knoll,

And hollow voice resounding nigh,

“Your alms, for prayers to rest the soul

Of him condemn’d to die!”

THE SONG OF THE PIRATE.