A Long and Somber Sigh

Fresh flecks of human bourbon spilt
..Still bright, not dull and dry—
Red spirits splashed on solemn silt
..Swift sober footsteps ply
For exit from this harried chase,
..From crystal pistol scry,
From blistered bleeding brutal race:
..A beg, a plead, a cry
For help breathes forth from silent lips,
..Sharp glance from vacant eye
Quick backward shot, while forward trips,
..Yet scrambles up to try
One last attempt, though fading fast,
..A lamp with no supply
Of oil, the Argo with no mast
..And tempest waiting by:
..A brusque and bitter bye.