A hundred, a thousand to one; even so;
  Not a hope in the world remained:
The swarming, howling wretches below
  Gained and gained and gained.

Skene looked at his pale young wife:--
  "Is the time come?"--"The time is come!"--
Young, strong, and so full of life:
  The agony struck them dumb.

Close his arm about her now,
  Close her cheek to his,
Close the pistol to her brow--
  God forgive them this!

"Will it hurt much?"--"No, mine own:
  I wish I could bear the pang for both."
"I wish I could bear the pang alone:
  Courage, dear, I am not loth."

Kiss and kiss: "It is not pain
  Thus to kiss and die.
One kiss more."--"And yet one again."--
  "Good by."--"Good by."


Note.--I retain this little poem, not as historically
accurate, but as written and published before I heard the
supposed facts of its first verse contradicted.