He saw thro' the windows as he kept gettin' upper, A number of families settin' at supper; But he eyed those slippery rocks very keen, And fled while he cried, and cried while a-fleein'.—Cho, "O, take care you," said an old man. "stop; It's blowin' gales up there on top; You'll tumble off on t'other side!" But the hurrying stranger still replied.— Cho. "O, don't go up such a shocking night, Come, sleep on my lap," said a maiden bright, On his Roman nose a tear drop come, But he still remarked, as he upward dumb.—Cho. "Look out for the branch of the sycamore treel Dodge rollin' stones, if any you see!" Sayin' which the farmer went to bed, And the lingular voice replied, overhead.—Cho. About a quarter past six the next forenoon, A man accidentally going up soon, Heard spoken above him as much as twice, The very same words in a very weak voice.— Cho. Not far, I believe, from a quarter of seven, He was slow gettin' up, the road bein' uneven. He found, buried up in the snow and ice, The boy and his flag with the strange device. —Cho. He's dead, defunct, without any doubt; The lamp of his life entirely gone out; On the drear hill-side the youth was a-lyin', And there was no more use for him to be a-cryln'.—Cho.
