Page:Joseph Drew - The Vision of the Pope.pdf/13

 They left not one, when they were done, No saving hand was shown; But on their backs, they strapp’d their packs, And kicked them back to Rome.

Their groaning wail, rose on the gale, Pope Pius woke in fright; His grog was cold, the chimes they toll’d,— ’Twas twelve o’clock at night.

JOSEPH DREW.