FINIS
BY WILLIAM H. HAYNE
NO blood-stains on the polished floor—Not one drop has been shed—No wound in heart or brow or breast,And yet the man is dead.No dirk or pistol in the room—No sign of death’s dark goal—And yet the man who seems aliveHas murdered his own soul.
NO blood-stains on the polished floor—Not one drop has been shed—No wound in heart or brow or breast,And yet the man is dead.No dirk or pistol in the room—No sign of death’s dark goal—And yet the man who seems aliveHas murdered his own soul.
NO blood-stains on the polished floor—Not one drop has been shed—No wound in heart or brow or breast,And yet the man is dead.
NO blood-stains on the polished floor—
Not one drop has been shed—
No wound in heart or brow or breast,
And yet the man is dead.
No dirk or pistol in the room—No sign of death’s dark goal—And yet the man who seems aliveHas murdered his own soul.
No dirk or pistol in the room—
No sign of death’s dark goal—
And yet the man who seems alive
Has murdered his own soul.