Has a tyrant died, that they cannot hide their wrath till the rites are done?
the chant.
"Ululu! ululu! high on the wind,
There's a home for the slave where no fetters can bind.
Woe, woe to his slayers!"—comes wildly along,
With the trampling of feet and the funeral song.
And now more clear
It swells on the ear;
Breathe low, and listen, 'tis solemn to hear.
"Ululu! ululu! wail for the dead.