Page:Creole Sketches.djvu/76

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46
CREOLE SKETCHES

Death's shadow falls on my barren walls,
It sleeps on my chamber floor,
Its marrowless bones mock at my groans,
And point to the shining shore,
While a jeering, mocking, ugly grin
Spreads over its fleshless face
At a double triumph—the Quack's success,
And the Quack's supreme disgrace.