Escaped his lips.

Yet sure he felt his spirit's groanings heard,

As prone he lay and gasped the air by sips;

 His strength now grew with every stroke he plied. At sound of sea and men, Death's clammy sweat Was changed for drops that told of health again, While through his languid frame life's current swept, It only made him feel how nearly he had died. 

His strength now grew with every stroke he plied.

At sound of sea and men,

Death's clammy sweat

Was changed for drops that told of health again,

While through his languid frame life's current swept,

 At last his living tomb of rock was rent; Though but a narrow rift He yet had made Enough; it did a horrid monster lift, That clutched him close and held aloft a blade; He felt himself undone, when, lo! God had deliv'rance sent. 

At last his living tomb of rock was rent;

Though but a narrow rift

He yet had made

Enough; it did a horrid monster lift,

That clutched him close and held aloft a blade;

 

 

 The Crucified One. 

 So wildly beat his heart and throbbed his veins, As morn's first struggling gleam. His rift net caught, He e'en must follow its meandering beam, Till something on the walls his footsteps brought To rest. He shuddered as he saw the death-throe stains 

So wildly beat his heart and throbbed his veins,

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