"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.

"And still no peace for the restless clay Will wave or mould allow ;

The horrid thing pursues my soul,
It stands before me now!"

The fearful boy looked up, and saw
Huge drops upon his brow.

That very night, while gentle sleep
The urchin 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.

THE ELM-TREE:

A DREAM IN THE WOODS.

"And this our life, exempt from public haunt, Finds tongues in trees."- - As You Like It.

PART I.

WAS in a shady avenue,
Where lofty elms abound;
And from a tree

There came to me

A sad and solemn sound,

That sometimes murmured overhead,
And sometimes underground.

Amongst the leaves it seemed to sigh,
Amid the boughs to moan;
It muttered in the stem, and then
The roots took up the tone;
As if beneath the dewy grass
The dead began to groan.

No breeze there was to stir the leaves;
No bolts that tempests launch,