ozen 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 wash'd 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 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 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 dew-drop from its wing;
But I never mark'd 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 murde