Classic Poem

The children ran up to the cot,
And eager to the father cried:
" Daddie, daddie, come quick, our nets
A body dead to shore have dragged! "
" You lie, you lie, you little imps! "
The angry father roughly growled:
" To think that these my children are!
I'll teach you talk about dead men. "

Stern as judge, he 'gan to question;
" Alas, the truth I ne'er shall know,
There's nothing to be done! Eh, wife,
Give here my cloak, for I must go.
Where is this corpse? " " There, father, there! "
In truth, upon the river bank,
Where they the fishing-nets had cast,
A dead man lay upon the sand.

The corpse had lost its comely form,
All swollen now, of ghastly hue.
Some maddened wretch, who in despair
Had freed his erring soul from woe;
Some fisher caught in angry sea;
Some reeling royster homeward bound;
Or merchant rich, with well — filled purse,
Attacked by cunning thieves and robbed.

With this no peasant has concern!
He looks around, and sets to work;
With sleeves up-tucked, he quickly drags
To water's edge the sodden corpse;
And with his oar it pushes off
Adown the open, flowing stream;
And with the tide the dead man floats
In search of grave with cross o'erhead.

And long the body, tossed by waves,
Rolled, floating, like a living thing;
The peasant watched it out of sight,
And then he thoughtful home returned:
" Now, brats, to none a word of this,
And wastel-loaf I'll give to each;
But good heed take, and hold your tongues,
Or else a whipping you shall have! "

The night was rough, the storm-blast raged,
The river overflowed its banks;
Within the peasant's smoky hut
The flickering lath-torch spluttered;
The children slept, the housewife dozed,
And on his shelf the husband lay;
When, hark! above the tempest's howl
He heard some one at window knock.

" Who's there? " ... Eh, open, my good friend! " ...
" Why, what ill luck is there abroad,
That thou, like Cain, dost prowl the night?
The devil take thee quick from hence!
For roaming vagrants where find place?
Our house is small and close enough. "
And, with unwilling, lazy hand,
He window opened and looked out.

From out a cloud the moon peered forth ...
Before him stood a naked form,
With water dripping from his beard;
His eyes were open, motionless;
A lifeless statue, numb and cold,
His bony hands drooped helpless down;
And o'er his swollen body crawled,
Fast clinging, black and slimy things.

The peasant quick the window closed;
He knew full well that naked guest,
And swooned away " Ah, mayst thou burst! "
He, trembling, muttered trough his teeth
Uncanny thoughts possessed his brain,
And all that night he sleepless tossed;
Till morn he heard the ceaseless knock,
At window first, and then at door.

Among the people goes the tale,
How from that night of dread and crime,
Each year the half-crazed peasant waits
The destined day and guest unknown
From early morn the clouds hang low,
The night grows rough and wild with storm;
And lo! the dead man ceaseless knocks
At window first, and then at door.