Classic Poem

The shadowy semblance, lo! is past!—
Loudly yells the midnight blast,
And, hark! the death-bell's sullen toll
Strikes upon my shrinking soul!
Whither, whither am I led?
“To the drear caverns of the dead,
Here with murder shalt thou dwell,
Mark yon bleeding Phantom well,
Know you not the wound you gave,
You was bloody, he was brave;
In the dark you dealt the blow,
With a hatchet fell'd him low,
His clefThead distended wide,
Hideous hangs upon each side;
Why, dost thou, enwrithing start,
'Gainst thy ribs why knocks thy heart?
Why, to the taper's glimm'ring blue
Gleams thy front with clammy dew?
Welcome to his cell below
Thou with thy murder'd host must go!”
Mercy, Mercy, do not clasp
My frame in such a frozen grasp,
Fibres from my heart you tear,
Loose me, loose me, Spectre drear;
Oh! ten thousand fathoms deep
I behold a vap'ry steep,
Wild with ecstacy of pain,
Madness rushes on my brain,
Round and round my senses tost,
Now I tumble——I am lost.