left to death?"-- 

 Eric of Marka holds the knife, And turns to the mother that is no wife: 

 "Mary of Marka, have your will! Shall I spare him, or shall I kill?"-- 

 "He wrought me wrong when the days were sweet, And he'll get no more but a winding-sheet." 

PREMONITION.

 He said, "Good-night, my heart is light, To-morrow morn at day We two together in the dew Shall forth and fare away. 

 "We shall go down, the halls of dawn To find the doors of joy; We shall not part again, dear heart." And he laughed out like a boy. 

 He turned and strode down the blue road Against the western sky Where the last line of sunset glowed As sullen embers die. 

  The night reached out her kraken arms To clutch him as he passed, And for one sudden moment My soul shrank back aghast. 

THE HEARSE-HORSE.

 Said the hearse-horse to the coffin, "What the devil have you there? I may trot from court to square, Yet it neither swears nor groans, When I jolt it over stones." Said the coffin to the hearse-horse, "Bones!" 

 Said the hearse-horse to the coffin, "What the devil have you there, With that purple frozen stare? Where the devil has it been To get that shadow grin?" Said the coffin to the hearse-horse, "Skin!" 

 Said the hearse-horse to the coffin, "What the devil have you there? It has fingers, it has hair; Yet it neither kicks nor squirms At the undertaker's terms." Said the coffin to the hearse-horse, "Worms!" 

THE NIGHT-WASHERS.

 Whe-ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh! We are the brothers of ghouls, and who In the name of the Crooked Saints are you? 

  We are the washers of shrouds wherein The lovers of beauty who sainted sin Sleep till the Judgment Day begin. 

 When the moon is drifting overhead, We wash the linen of the dead, Stained with yellow and stiff with red. 

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