Away they sped with gamesome minds, To a level mead they came, and there Like sportive deer they coursed about, But the usher sat remote from all, His hat was off, his vest apart, To catch heaven's blessed breeze; For a burning thought was in his brow, So he lean'd his head on his hands, and read The book between his knees! Leaf after leaf he turn'd it o'er, Nor ever glanced aside; For the peace of his soul he read that book In the golden eventide : Much study had made him very lean, At last he shut the ponderous tome; 'O Heav'n, could I so close my mind, Then leaping on his feet upright, Now up the mead, then down the mead, And past a shady nook: And lo he saw a little boy Tha pored upon a book! 'My gentle lad, what is't you read— Romance or fairy fable? Or is it some historic page Of kings and crowns unstable?' The young boy gave an upward glance'It is the death of Abel.' The usher took six hasty strides, And down he sat beside the lad, And long since then, of bloody men, Of lonely folk cut off unseen, And how the sprites of injured men And unknown facts of guilty acts Are seen in dreams from God! He told how murderers walk'd the earth With crimson clouds before their eyes, ‘And well,' quoth he, ‘I know, for truth, Their pangs must be extreme Wo, wo, unutterable wo 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 ragged stick, And one with a heavy stone, One hurried gash with a hasty knife, 'Nothing but lifeless flesh and bone, And yet I fear'd him all the more, There was a manhood in his look That murder could not kill! 'And lo! the universal air Seem'd lit with ghastly flame— Ten thousand, thousand dreadful eyes Were looking down in blame : I took the dead man by the hand, And call'd upon his name! 'Oh me, it made me quake to see 'My head was like an ardent coal, My heart as solid ice; My wretched, wretched soul, I knew, A dozen times I groan'd; the dead 'And now from forth the frowning sky, From the heaven's topmost height, I heard a voice-the awful voice 'I took the dreary body up '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, I could not share in childish prayer, 'Mid holy cherubim ! 'And peace went with them, one and all, 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, For sin had render'd unto her 'All night I lay in agony, From weary chime to chime, With one besetting horrid hint, That rack'd me all the timeA mighty yearning, like the first Fierce impulse unto crime ! |