I roll a poisonous river;

And men may write, and men may talk,

But I'll reek on for ever.

And thus my vengeance, still I seek

Foul drain, and not a river;

My breath is strong, though I am weak,

Death floats on me for ever.

You still may fight, or may unite

To use your joint endeavour;

But I'll be "boss," in spite of Cross,