And the lees of an oozing slime—
I know these joys, for I have been dead
And buried, a long, long time...
My lips they are drawn in a ghastly smile
But through them there goes no breath;
And my eyes they are dead and sunk in my head,
Yet forever they stare, in death,
For I look at the rotting burial-boards
Close sagging above my head;
Yea, I have been buried a long, long time,