And how the sprites of injured men Shriek upward from the sod; Ay, how the ghostly hand will point To show the burial clod; And unknown facts of guilty acts Are seen in dreams from God.
He told how murderers walk the earth Beneath the curse of Cain,-- With crimson clouds before their eyes, And flames about their brain; For blood has left upon their souls Its everlasting stain!
"And well," quoth he, "I know for truth Their pangs must be extreme-- Woe, woe, unutterable woe!-- Who spill life's sacred stream. For why? Methought, last night I wrought A murder, in a dream!
"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, And I will have his gold!
"Two sudden blows with a raggèd stick, And one with a heavy stone, One hurried gash with a hasty knife,-- And then the deed was done: There was nothing lying at my feet But lifeless flesh and bone!
"Nothing but lifeless flesh and bone, That could not do me ill; 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,-- Ten thousand thousand dreadful eyes Were looking down in blame; I took the dead man by his hand, And called upon his name.
"O 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 heart as solid ice; My wretched, wretched soul, I knew, Was at the Devil's price. A dozen times I groaned,--the dead Had never groaned but twice.
"And now, from forth the frowning sky, From 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!'
"And I took the dreary body up, And cast it in a stream,-- The 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 vanished 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.