Oh! villain thrice damn'd that blade to hide,
Right 'tween the arm on the farther side—
Certain death when it be there!
They're still alone on the moonlit spot—
Sing He—he! and Hey—hey! there!
Though one is Standing,[1] and one is not,
For one's cold as the clay there!
The villain covers the dead man's stare—
The corpse lies stiff in the limelight's glare!
The act is done!—and for all I care,