Ran round the circle, till at length
The wondering feeling gathered strength,
And some, who had not known him long,
Declared them words of cruel wrong,
And swore to keep no friendly troth
With one who framed so hard an oath.
“You will not, mates?” the old man said,
His words so earnest, dense, and dread
That something down my back ran cold
As at the ghostly tales of old.