The great spectral skeleton— 

 The ladder and the tree. 

 Hark! hark! the clash of arms 

 The bells begin to toll,— 

 He is coming! He is coming! 

 God have mercy on his soul! 

 One last long peal of thunder,— 

 The clouds are cleared away 

 And the glorious sun once more look'd down 

 Upon the dazzling day. 

 He is coming! he is coming!— 

 Like a bridegroom from his room, 

 Came the hero, from his prison 

 To the scaffold and the doom. 

 There was glory on his forehead,— 

 There was lustre in his eye, 

 And he never walked to battle 

 More proudly than to'die. 

 There was colour in his visage, 

 Though the cheeks of all were wan, 

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