Here, where the lonely hooting owl
Sends forth his midnight moans,
Fierce wolves shall o’ er my carcase growl,
Or buzzards pick my bones.
No fellow-man shall learn my fate,
Or where my ashes lie;
Unless by beasts drawn round their bait,
Or by the ravens’ cry.
Yes! I’ ve resolved the deed to do,
And this the place to do it:
This heart I’ ll rush a dagger through,
Though I in hell should rue it!
Hell! What is hell to one like me
Who pleasures never know;
By friends consigned to misery,
By hope deserted too?
To ease me of this power to think,
That through my bosom raves,
I’ ll headlong leap from hell’ s high brink,
And wallow in its waves.
Though devils yell, and burning chains
May waken long regret;
Their frightful screams, and piercing pains,
Will help me to forget.
Yes! I’ m prepared, through endless night,
To take that fiery berth!
Think not with tales of hell to fright
Me, who am damn’ d on earth!
Sweet steel! Come forth from out your sheath,
And glist’ ning, speak your powers;
Rip up the organs of my breath,
And draw my blood in showers!
I strike! It quivers in that heart
Which drives me to this end;
I draw and kiss the bloody dart,
My lastmy only friend!