"Haste, with thy poison'd dagger, haste,
" To pierce this sorrow-laden breast;
"Or lead me at the dead of night,
" To some sea-beat mountain's height,
"Whence with headlong haste I'll leap
" To the dark bosom of the deep;
"Or shew me far from human eye,
" Some cave to muse in, starve, and die,
"No weeping friend or brother near,
" My last fond, faultering words to hear? "