Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1.
Frank Moore, Ed.

IV.
     He repented him; the Bishop
Gave him absolution free--
     Poured upon him sacred chrism
In the pomp of his baptism.
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

V.
     He repented; then, he sickened--
Was he pining for the sea?
     In extremis he was shriven,
The Viaticum was given:
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

VI.
     Then, the old cathedral's choir
Took the plaintive minor key,
     With the Host upraised before him,
Down the marble aisle they bore him.
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

VII,
     And the Bishop, and the Abbot,
And the monks of high degree,
     Chanting praise to the Madonna,
Came to do him Christian honor.
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

VIII,
     Now, the Miserere's cadence
Takes the voices of the sea;--
     As the music-billows quiver,
See the dead freebooter shiver!
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

IX.
     Is it that those intonations
Thrill him thus from head to knee?
     So! his cerements burst asunder!
'Tis a sight of fear and wonder!
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

X.
     Fierce he stands before the Bishop--
Dark as shape of Destinie!
     Hark! a shriek ascends, appalling!
Down the prelate goes, dead — falling;
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

XI.
     Hasting lives! He was but feigning!
What! Repentant! Never he!
     Down he smites the priests and friars,
And the city lights with fires.
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

XII.
     Ah! the children and the maidens,
'Tis in vain they strive to flee!
     Where the white-haired priests lie bleeding,
Is no place for tearful pleading.
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

XIIII.
     Louder swells the frightful tumult;
Pallid Death holds reverie;
     Dies the organ's mighty clamor,
By the Norseman's iron hammer.
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

XIV.
     And they thought that he repented!
Had they nailed him to a tree,
     He had not deserved their pity,
And — they had not lost their city.
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”

XV.
     There's a moral in this story,
Which is plain as truth can be:
     If we trust the North's relenting,
We will shriek, too late, repenting:
     “A furore Normanorum,
Libera nos, O Domine!”