Classic Poem

"We e'en must quit, dear Mike, thy safe retreat;
'Tis clear, they're on our track.
Of this be sure,
That you henceforth in life shall nothing lack
That heart can wish or wealth of mine procure.
Swift send to Wynnwood Hall, a trusty man and fleet!"

"I'll go myself, Sir knight," old Michael said;
"For Eric here must stay
And hide awhile.
You'll see me back again by break of day;
With talk and sleep you can the hours beguile;
But one at least much watch,
for mischief broods o'erhead!"

When Mike returned, his den indeed was there
But tenants only one
Who bound him fast
And bade him take his leave of yonder sun,
For sure enough this look would be his last;
In Ragnor's gloomy vaults he'd find nor light nor air.