I know not whence; but on the morning air
A ghastly whisper pales my waking cheek;
A shudder in its warning seems to speak,
'Beware!'
I woke: the wind at intervals,
A mournful vigil kept,
As o'er a sepulchre, around
The chamber where I slept.
The casement rattled in the blast,
The breathing curtains stirred;
Anon, throughout their shroudy length,
A stifled sigh was heard-
A brooding dread, low whispering
In mystic monotone-
'It was a deed of darkness,
And in the darkness done.'
Again at noon, but thinner, faintlier, there
As spent with vigil, heaves a stifled sigh
(I turn to see; but nothing meets the eye)
'Beware!'
The pallor of a wasted lamp,
A fitful glimmer flung
Athwart a miniature above
The sculptured mantel hung,
Where gleams of melancholy light,
With conscious shadows wrought
Upon the lineaments portrayed
A malady of thought-
A dim-remembered agony,
Interpreting the tone-
'It was a deed of darkness,
And in the darkness done!'
At twilight grim, in nature's dumb despair,
As swoops the prowling darkness of the day,
Throbs, in a sudden torment of dismay,
'Beware!'
Aghast, I listened, motionless,
When lo! a chilling sound-
The vague pulsation of a heart
Beneath a mortal wound-
And from the picture quivering,
As smitten wan with pain
Dark, stormy drops fell suddenly
As a reluctant rain:
And still the moaning monody
Rhymed on in undertone-
'It was a deed of darkness
And in the darkness done.'
At midnight, like an incantation drear,
The hollow tide in broken thunder-tone
Sobs, with the beating of my heart, a groan,
'Beware!'
The spectral eyes drooped languidly,
The hand convulsive clung,
The bell of midnight clashed the hour
With stern prophetic tongue;
Then, all was blank-oblivious
In icy calm I lay-
The morning whitened to behold
My raven tresses gray;
And beats forever on my brain
The throbbing monotone-
'It was a deed of darkness
And in the darkness done.'
Thus, as a strain bewildered, everywhere,
The trooping echoes of a formless fear,
Like startled phantoms, flock upon my ear,
'Beware!'