'They left the village, they rush'd to the cliff,
A dissolute crew that good Christians condemn'--
This is the way they keep talking, as if
I did not know _Harry_ was one of them!
'Shouting and swearing, and heated and flush'd,
All talking together, and running pell mell,
Out to the cliff from the village they rush'd,
And two men were fighting, and one man fell.'
And the man who fell over the dreadful edge,
For ever lost, and for ever must be;
There was never a sandbank, rock, or ledge,
There was _nothing_ but the pitiless sea!

I hear it said, without doubt or surmise,
Over and over and over again,
The man who was murder'd was Jack Devize,
And the man who murder'd him, Harry Vane!




I dream I am standing on purple heights,
Alone and alone for ever and aye;
The sun is shining with pitiless lights;
I pray that darkness may cover the sky.

I dream I am lying buried in sand,
Alone and alone for ever and aye;
Parch'd and dry is the terrible land;
I pray but for water before I die.