They said, who passed, a weapon's gleam
Danced in the moonlight's silvery beam.
Crowds gathered round, a crimson tide
Was slowly ebbing from his side,
When on their sight a weapon flashed,
And feet that living current plashed,
Till bending o'er his shivering frame
A woman wildly shrieked his name.
"Turn on me now your treacherous eyes!
Speak, lying lips, while perjury dies,