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“And all that day I read in school,

But my thought was otherwhere ; As soon as the midday task was done,

In secret I was there, And a mighty wind had swept the leaves,

And still the corse was bare !

And drew my midnight curtains round

With fingers bloody red ! “ All night I lay in agony,

In anguish dark and deep;
My fevered eyes I dared not close,

But stared aghast at Sleep ;
For Sin had rendered unto her

The keys of hell to keep! “All night I lay in agony,

From weary chime to chime; With one besetting horrid hint

That racked me all the time, A mighty yearning, like the first

Fierce impulse unto crime, —

“ Then down I cast me on my face,

And first began to weep, For I knew my secret then was one

That earth refused to keep, — Or land or sea, though he should be

Ten thousand fathoms deep.

“ One stern tyrannic thought, that made

All other thoughts its slave ! Stronger and stronger every pulse

Did that temptation crave, — Still urging me to go and see

The dead man in his grave!

“So wills the fierce avenging sprite,

Till blood for blood atones !
Ay, though he's buried in a cave,

And trodden down with stones, And years have rotted off his flesh,

The world shall see his bones !

“() God ! that horrid, horrid dream

Besets me now awake !
Again - again, with dizzy brain,

The human life I take ;
And my red right hand grows raging hot,

Like Cranmer's at the stake.

“ Heavily I rose up, as soon

As light was in the sky,
And sought the black accursed pool

With a wild, misgiving eye ;
And I saw the dead in the river-bed,

For the faithless stream was dry. “Merrily rose the lark, and shook

The dew-drop from its wing ;
But I never marked its morning flight,

I never heard it sing,
For I was stooping once again

Under the horrid thing. “ With breathless speed, like a soul in chase,

I took him up and ran ;
There was no time to dig a grave

Before the day began, —
In a lonesome wood, with heaps of leaves,

I hid the murdered man !

“And still no peace for the restless clay

Will wave or mold allow ;
The horrid thing pursues my soul, –

It stands before me now !"
The fearful boy looked up, and saw

Huge drops upon his brow,

That very night, while gentle sleep

The urchin's eyelids kissed,
Two stern-faced men set out from Lynn

Through the cold and heavy mist;
And Eugene Aram walked between,
With gyves upon his wrist.

THOMAS HOOD,

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The wonders of all-reling Providence.

The juryo that from celestial Merry flowe;
Efential beauty; perfect excellence,

Ennable and refine the native glow
The foch feels - and thence his best resource

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Would ye be taught, ye feathered throng,
With love's sweet notes to grace your song,
To pierce the heart with thrilling lay,
Listen to mine Anne Hathaway !
She hath a way to sing so clear,
Phæbus might wondering stop to hear.
To melt the sad, make blithe the gay,
And nature charm, Anne hath a way ;

She hath a way,

Anne Hathaway ;
To breathe delight Anne hath a way.

And darkly through a sorrowing land Euphrates

winds along, And Cydnus with its silver wave hath heard the

funeral song; And through the wide and sultry East, and

through the frozen North, The tabret and the harp are hushed, — the wail

of grief goes forth. There is a solitary tomb, with rankling weeds o'er

grown, A single palm bends mournfully beside the mold

ering stone, Amidst whose leaves the passing breeze with fit

ful gust and slow Seems sighing forth a feeble dirge for him who

sleeps below. Beside, its sparkling drops of foam a desert foun

tain showers ; And, floating calm, the lotus wreathes its red and

scented flowers ;

When Envy's breath and rancorous tooth
Do soil and bite fair worth and truth,
And merit to distress betray,
To soothe the heart Anne hath a way.
She hath a way to chase despair,
To heal all grief, to cure all care,
Turn foulest night to fairest day.
Thou know'st, fond heart, Anne hath a way;

She hath a way,

Anne Hathaway ;
To make grief bliss, Anne hath a way.

Talk not of gems, the orient list,
The diamond, topaz, amethyst,
The emerald mild, the ruby gay ;
Talk of my gem, Anne Hathaway !
She hath a way, with her bright eye,
Their various lusters to defy, -

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