Triumph over Fate
In the bosom of the shadows rose a Vision dark and dread,
Shape of gloom in inky garment, and a crown was on his head!
Gleaming form of sable splendour, blood-red was his sparkling eye,
And a fatal noose he carried, grim and godlike, dark and high!
And he stood in solemn silence, looked in silence on the dead,
An