Classic Poem

Two days we held our festival — two days we feasted high;
And on the third our wine was done — both cask and cup were dry.
The captain sent me forth alone to seek a fresh supply;
But nothing of the way I knew, for stranger there was I.
I took the first frequented path: it brought me to a cave —
Another led me through the wood — another to the wave;
At last I reach'd a rising ground, where many a cluster'd grave
Mark'd, with its cross and figured stone, the dwelling of the brave.

One stood apart from all the rest — one low and lonely bed;
I saw it not, but, wandering on, I stepp'd upon its head;
And lo! I heard a voice beneath — a voice as from the dead,
Like thunder subterranean, in answer to my tread.

" What hast thou there, O lonely tomb? — what cause disturbs thy rest?
The black earth heap'd too heavily — the stone upon thy breast?"
" I am not wearied with the stone, nor by the mould opprest;
It is thine own unhallow'd step that wakes me from my rest!

" Remove thy foot from off my head, thou stranger of the night,
And trouble not the sleep of him who fought his country's fight;
For I have been a young man too, in glory and in might,
And wander'd on the mountain side when the moon was shining bright."Two days we held our festival — two days we feasted high;
And on the third our wine was done — both cask and cup were dry.
The captain sent me forth alone to seek a fresh supply;
But nothing of the way I knew, for stranger there was I.

I took the first frequented path: it brought me to a cave —
Another led me through the wood — another to the wave;
At last I reach'd a rising ground, where many a cluster'd grave
Mark'd, with its cross and figured stone, the dwelling of the brave.

One stood apart from all the rest — one low and lonely bed;
I saw it not, but, wandering on, I stepp'd upon its head;
And lo! I heard a voice beneath — a voice as from the dead,
Like thunder subterranean, in answer to my tread.

" What hast thou there, O lonely tomb? — what cause disturbs thy rest?
The black earth heap'd too heavily — the stone upon thy breast?"
" I am not wearied with the stone, nor by the mould opprest;
It is thine own unhallow'd step that wakes me from my rest!

" Remove thy foot from off my head, thou stranger of the night,
And trouble not the sleep of him who fought his country's fight;
For I have been a young man too, in glory and in might,
And wander'd on the mountain side when the moon was shining bright."