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“ Two sudden blows with a ragged stick,
And one with a heavy stone,
And then the deed was done;
But lifeless flesh and bone !
Nothing but lifeless flesh and bone,
That could not do me ill;
For lying there so still ;
That murder could not ki}l !
6 And lo! the universal air
Seemed lit with ghastly flame-
Were looking down in blame ;
And called upon his name?
« Oh God! it made me quake to see
Such sense within the slain!.
The blood gushed out amain!
Was scorching in my brain !
My head was like an ardent coal,
My heart was solid ice;
Was at the Devil's price;
Had never groan’d but twice!
“ And now from forth the frowning sky,
From the 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!'
"I took the dreary body up,
And cast it in a stream
The death was so extreme
Was nothing but a dream).
Ihrous the trag
“ Down went the corse with a hollow plunge
And vanish’d in a pool ;
And wash'd my forehead cool,
That evening in the school.
“Oh heaven! to think of their white souls,
And mine so black and grim!
Nor join in evening hymn;
'Mid holy cherubim.
“ And peace went with them one and all,
And each calm pillow spread;
That lighted me to bed,
With fingers bloody red !
“All night I lay in agony,
From weary chime to chime,
That racked me all the time,
Pierce impulse unto crime!
“One stern, tyrannic thought, that made
All other thoughts its slave; Stronger and stronger every pulse
Did that temptation craveStill urging me to go and see
The dead man in his grave!
“ With breathless speed, like a soul in chase,
I took him up and ran-
Before the day began!
I hid the murdered man!
“ And all that day I read in school,
But my thought was otherwhere;
In secret I was there :
And still the corse was bare !
“ Then down I cast me on my face,
And first began to weep,
That Earth refused to keep ;
Ten thousand fathoms deep !
“So wills the fierce avenging sprite
Till blood for blood atones!
And trodden down with stones,
The world shall see his bones!
“ Oh God, that horrid, horrid dream
Besets me now awake!
The human life I take;
Like Cranmer's at the stake.
“ And still no peace for the restless clay
Will wave or mould allow; The horrid thing that pursues my soul
It stands before me now !" The fearful boy looked
up Huge drops upon his brow!
That very night, while gentle sleep
The urchin's eyelids kissed, Two stern-faced men set out from Lynn,
Through the cold and heavy mist And Eugene Aram walked between,
With gyves upon his wrist.
BLACK, WHITE, AND BROWN.
ALL at once Miss Morbid left off sugar.
She did not resign it as some persons lay down their carriage, the full-bodied family coach dwindling into a chariot, next into a fly, and then into a sedan-chair. She did not shade it off artistically, like certain household economists, from white to whitey brown, brown, dark-brown, and so on, to none at all. She left it off, as one might leave off walking on the top of a house, or on a slide, or on a plank with a further end to it, that is to say, slapdash, all at once, without a moment's warning. She gave it up, to speak appropriately, in the lump. She dropped
Corporal Trim let fall his hat,—dab. It vanished, as the French say, toot sweet. From the 30th of November, 1830, not an ounce of sugar, to use Miss Morbid's own expression, ever “ darkened her doors.”
The truth was she had been present the day before at an AntiSlavery Meeting; and had listened to a lecturing Abolitionist, who had drawn her sweet tooth, root and branch, out of her head. Thenceforth sugar, or as she called it “ shugger,” was no longer white, or brown, in her eyes, but red, blood-red-an abomination, to indulge in which would convert a professing Christian into a practical Cannibal. Accordingly, she made a vow, under the influence of moist eyes and refined feelings, that the sanguinary article should never more enter her lips or her house ; and this pretty parody of the famous Berlin decree against our Colonial produce was rigidly enforced. However others might counte. nance the practice of the Slave Owners by consuming “shugger,” she was resolved for her own part, that “ no suffering sable son of Africa should ever rise up against her out of a cup of Tea !”
In the mean time, the cook and house-maid grumbled in concert