Chain’d in the flames of hell;
I would abide, unterrified,
More than a man shall tell.”
The moon is pale, the night winds wail,
Weird whispers fill the night:
“Dear heart, what word was that I heard
Ring out in the moonlight?”
’Twas but the blast that hurried past,
Shrieking among the pines:
The souls that wail upon the gale,