"All night I lay in agony, In anguish dark and deep; My fevered eyes I dared not close, But stared 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 racked 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 accursèd 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 marked 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 murdered man!
"And all that day I read in school, But my thought was otherwhere; As soon as the midday task was done, In secret I was there,— And a mighty wind had swept the leaves, And still the corse was bare!
"Then down I cast me on my face, And first began to weep, For I knew my secret then was one That earth refused to keep,— Or land or sea, though he should be Ten thousand fathoms deep.
"So wills the fierce avenging sprite, Till blood for blood atones! Ay, though he's buried in a cave, And trodden down with stones, And years have rotted off his flesh,— The world shall see his bones!
"O God! that horrid, horrid dream Besets me now awake! Again—again, with dizzy brain, The human life I take; And my red right hand grows raging hot, Like Cranmer's at the stake.