Beware! — breathes the faint evening wind?
Omen — sighs dayspring's innocent air?
Stalks out from shadow, when drawn's the blind,
A warning Nothing, to shake the mind
And touch the soul with care? —
At midnight on thy stair?

Lurks there in every rose's sweet
A murderous whisper, Fade must I?
Mutters the vagrant in the street,
Edging his way with anxious feet —
Thou too art hastening by.
Drones on the carrion fly?

Oh, climb thou down from fool's disdain;
Stoop thy cold lips to rag and sore;
Kiss the gaunt cheek while yet remains
Life's blood in it. Ay, hearken; again! —
Thou art the thief, the murderer,
The outcast at thy door.
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