shingles slide.

Then, like a blow upon the cheek,
The mummy's voice began to speak:

_'Give me a priest! I'm going to die!'_
The Banshee wind took up the cry:
'Give him a priest, he's going to die!'
The old house seemed to rock with laughter,
Shaking its sides and every rafter.

There was a terror in that room
Like faint light streaming from a tomb.
I tried three times before I spoke,
And then the bald words made me choke:
'Be quiet, man, for I am come
To bring you the _viaticum_!'--
I made the sign of holiness.
He rattled out a startled cry.
I whispered low, 'Confess, confess!'
His thin hands quivered with distress.
It is a bitter thing to die.

Just when a blast fell on the town,
I felt his lean claws clutch me down.
It seemed as if the hands of death
Were beating at my breast for breath;
His arms were like a twisted rope
Of rotten strands that tugged at hope.
_'Listen, my father, listen well!'_
The wind went tolling like a bell:

_'She's lying fifty fathoms deep,_
_Where fishes like white birds go by_
_Through water-air in ocean-land;_
_She has a prayer-book in her hand--_
_Tonight she walks; tonight she spoke;_
_Her hair goes floating out and up,_
_Blown one way, with the water weeds,_
_Always one way, like amber smoke._

_She asks the gift she gave to me--_
_This ring--I cannot get it off!'_
His hand and hand fought like two claws--
_'I hear her calling from the sea!'_
His terror made my own heart pause.

His voice went moaning with the wind,
And groaned and rattled, '_I have sinned_,'
And moaned and murmured at my ear
Of bat-winged angels standing near.

_'The little schooner "Patriot"--_
_I can't forget the vessel's name;_
_We met her rounding Naggs Head Bank;_
_We made her people walk the plank,_
_Twelve men whose faces I forgot._

_But there was one sweet lady there,_
_With lovely eyes and lovely hair,_
_Whose face has stayed like pain and care._
_For every man she made a prayer;_
_And when the last had found the sea,_
_I cried to her to pray for me._

_She prayed--and took this ring, and said:_
_"Wear this for me when I am dead."_
_She bowed her head, then steadfastly_
_She walked into the hungry sea._
_But silent words were on her lips,_
_