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bone, That could not do me ill; And yet I fear'd 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 Seem'd lit with ghastly flame-- Ten thousand, thousand dreadful eyes Were looking down in blame: I took the dead man by the hand, And call'd upon his name! 'Oh me, it made me quake to see Such sense within the slain! But when I touch'd the lifeless clay, The blood gush'd out amain! For every clot, a burning spot Was scorching in my brain! 'My head was like an ardent coal, My heart as solid ice; My wretched, wretched soul, I knew, Was at the devil's price: A dozen times I groan'd; the dead Had never groan'd but twice. '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 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 vanish'd in the pool; Anon I cleansed my bloody hands, And washed my forehead cool, And sat among the urchins young That evening in the school. 'O 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 seem'd, 'Mid holy cherubim! 'And peace went with them, one and all, And each calm pillow spread; 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 fever'd eyes I dared not close, But star'd aghast at Sleep; For sin had render'd 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 rack'd me all the time-- A mighty yearning, like the first Fierce impulse unto crime. '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 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
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