"Two sudden blows with a ragged stick, "Nothing but lifeless flesh and bone, There was a manhood in his look, And, lo! the universal air Seemed lit with ghastly flame; "O, God! it made me quake to see But when I touched the lifeless clay, For every clot, a burning spot Was scorching in my brain! "My head was like an ardent coal, A dozen times I groaned; the dead Had never groaned but twice! "And now, from forth the frowning sky, Of the blood-avenging sprite :- 'I took the dreary body up, And cast it in a stream,A sluggish water, black as ink, The depth was so extreme: My gentle Boy, remember this Is nothing but a dream! "Down went the corse with a hollow plunge, And vanished in the pool; Anon I cleansed my bloody hands, "O, Heaven! to think of their white souls, And mine so black and grim! I could not share in childish prayer, 'Mid holy cherubim ! And peace went with them, one and all, But Guilt was my grim chamberlain That lighted me to bed; 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 "One stern tyrannic thought, that made All other thoughts its slave; แ Stronger and stronger every pulse Still urging me to go and see The Dead Man in his grave! Heavily I rose up, as soon As light was in the sky, And sought the black accurséd pool And I saw the Dead in the river bed, "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, In a lonesome wood, with heaps of leaves, "And all that day I read in school, But my thought was other where; As soon as the mid-day task was done, In secret I was there: And a mighty wind had swept the leaves, And still the corse was bare! "Then down I cast me on my face, For I knew my secret then was one "So wills the fierce avenging Sprite, "O, 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 "And still no peace for the restless clay Will wave or mould allow; The horrid thing pursues my soul,- That very night, while gentle sleep |