LVIII.

The last sight which she saw was Juan's gore,

And he himself o'ermastered and cut down;

His blood was running on the very floor

Where late he trod, her beautiful, her own;

Thus much she viewed an instant and no more,—

Her struggles ceased with one convulsive groan;

On her Sire's arm, which until now scarce held

Her writhing, fell she like a cedar felled.

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