And how the spirits of injured men Shriek upward from the sod.- He told how murderers walk the earth "And well," quoth he, "I know for truth, Woe, woe, unutterable woe,— For why? Methought last night I wrought "One that had never done me wrong, A feeble man and old; I led him to a lonely field, The moon shone clear and cold: "Two sudden blows with a ragged stick, "Nothing but lifeless flesh and bone, And yet I feared him all the more, For lying there so still : There was a manhood in his look, That murder could not kill! "And lo! the universal air Seemed lit with ghastly flame; "O God! it made me quake to see The blood gushed out amain! "My head was like an ardent coal, My wretched, wretched soul, I knew, A dozen times I groaned: the dead "And now, from forth the frowning sky, I heard a voice-the awful voice "I took the dreary body up, "Down went the corse with a hollow plunge, And vanished in the pool; Anon I cleansed my bloody hands, And washed my forehead cool, And sat among the urchins young, "Oh, Heaven! to think of their white souls, And mine so black and grim ! I could not share in childish prayer, Nor join in Evening Hymn: Like a Devil of the Pit I seemed, 'Mid holy Cherubim ! "And peace went with them, one and all, And each calm pillow spread; But Guilt was my grim Chamberlain And drew my midnight curtains round, "All night I lay in agony, In anguish dark and deep, For Sin had rendered unto her "All night I lay in agony, From weary chime to chime, "One stern, tyrannic thought, that made Did that temptation crave, Still urging me to go and see "Heavily I rose up, as soon And I saw the Dead in the river-bed, "Merrily rose the lark, and shook For I was stooping once again Under the horrid thing. "With breathless speed, like a soul in chase, I took him up and ran; Before the day began: In a lonesome wood, with heaps of leaves, I hid the murdered man! "And all that day I read in school, But my thought was otherwhere; As soon as the midday task was done, And a mighty wind had swept the leaves, “Then down I cast me on my face, For I knew my secret then was one Or land, or sea, though he should be "So wills the fierce avenging Sprite, "Oh God! that horrid, horrid dream And my red right hand grows raging hot, "And still no peace for the restless clay, Will wave or mould allow ; The horrid thing pursues my soul It stands before me now!" The fearful Boy looked up, and saw That very night, while gentle sleep Two stern-faced men set out from Lynn, THE DUTCHMAN'S SERENADE. Vake up, my schveet! Vake up my lofe! Der shtreet dot's kinder dampy vet, O my lofe! my lofely lofe! Vell, anyvay, obe loose your ear, Oh, lady vake! Get vake! Und hear der tale I'll tell; Oh, you vot's schleebin' sound ub dhere, ANON. |