Classic Poem

A T length appears the wish'd-for Night,
When my glad Soul shall take her Flight;
Tremble my Limbs, my Eye-balls start,
The Venom's busy at my Heart.
Hark! how the solemn Sisters call,
And point aloft to Odin 's Hall!
I come, I come, prepare full Bowls,
Fit Banquet for heroic Souls:
What's Life? — I scorn this idle Breath,
I smile in the Embrace of Death!