"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: Now here, said I, this man shall die, "Two sudden blows with a ragged stick, And one with a heavy stone, One hurried gash with a hasty knife,- "Nothing but lifeless flesh and bone, And yet I feared him all the more, There was a manhood in his look, "And lo! the universal air "Oh God! it made me quake to see Such sense within the slain! But when I touched the lifeless clay, The blood gushed out amain! For every clot, a burning spot Was scorching in my brain! "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, From the Heaven's topmost height, I heard a voice-the awful voice Of the blood-avenging sprite'Thou guilty man! take up thy dead And hide it from my sight!' "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, 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, With fingers bloody red! "All night I lay in agony, In anguish dark and deep, For Sin had rendered unto her “All night I lay in agony, "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! "Heavily I rose up, as soon And I saw the Dead in the river bed, For the faithless stream was dry. "Merrily rose the lark, and shook 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, "And all that day I read in school, And a mighty wind had swept the leaves, "Then down I cast me on my face, For I knew my secret then was one "So wills the fierce avenging Sprite, And trodden down with stones, And years have rotted off his flesh,- "Oh 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, "And still no peace for the restless clay, The horrid thing pursues my soul,- That very night, while gentle sleep Two stern-faced men set out from Lynn, IN THE TUNNEL. Didn't know Flynn,- Here in this tunnel, He was my pardner, THOMAS HOOD. |