And neither screech'd nor cried—"
Hereat she pluck'd the white cravat aside,
And lo! the whole phenomenon was seen—
"Preserve us all! He's going to gangrene!"
Alas! through Simpson's brain
Shot the remark, like ball, with mortal pain;
It tallied truly with his own misgiving,
And brought a groan,
To move a heart of stone—
A sort of farewell to the land of living!