Heigho! &c.
“To cool thy passion in the tomb!”
—“What, ere my days of earthly doom?”
“No matter!” cried the shape of gloom,
Heigho! &c.
Grimly the phantom clutch’d the fair,
To death’s dark realm his prize to bear,
Heigho! &c.
“Hence! hence!” he cried, “ere morning’s light;”
“Begone!” she shriek’d, and with the fright