'Twas all prepared-and from the rock,
180 A goat, the patriarch of the flock,
Before the kindling pile was laid,
And pierced by Roderick's ready blade.
Patient the sickening victim eyed
The life-blood ebb in crimson tide,
185 Down his clogged beard and shaggy limb,
Till darkness glazed his eyeballs dim.
The grisly priest, wi
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