the condemned.
129
This night in penitence I spend—
To-morrow's noon, and all shall end.
To-morrow's noon, and all shall end.
******
'Tis early morn: the pale, dim light
Falls faintly upon tower and height;
A peaceful hamlet's walls of snow
Gleam 'mid the darkness spread below;
And yet, so shrouded, all would seem
As faint and shadowy as a dream
Which-dimly falls upon the mind,
Confused, and dark, and undefined.
Slow noddling like a hearse's plume,
The copeswood waves amid the gloom,
As ever and anon the gale
Seems sighing forth some mournful tale.
And there, upon the misty green,
Some darksome object's dimly seen;
Though half-confounded with the shade
Of backgrounds, there's enough displayed
Of outline 'gainst the dawning light
To make one shudder at the sight.
It is a scaffold! When upreared?
None saw the fatal thing prepared;
Yet, when the sombre clouds gave way
Before the beaming face of day,
'Tis there, and crowds are hastening nigh—
It is the hour when he must die.
A murmur rose amongst the throng;
The doomed one now is led along;
Falls faintly upon tower and height;
A peaceful hamlet's walls of snow
Gleam 'mid the darkness spread below;
And yet, so shrouded, all would seem
As faint and shadowy as a dream
Which-dimly falls upon the mind,
Confused, and dark, and undefined.
Slow noddling like a hearse's plume,
The copeswood waves amid the gloom,
As ever and anon the gale
Seems sighing forth some mournful tale.
And there, upon the misty green,
Some darksome object's dimly seen;
Though half-confounded with the shade
Of backgrounds, there's enough displayed
Of outline 'gainst the dawning light
To make one shudder at the sight.
It is a scaffold! When upreared?
None saw the fatal thing prepared;
Yet, when the sombre clouds gave way
Before the beaming face of day,
'Tis there, and crowds are hastening nigh—
It is the hour when he must die.
A murmur rose amongst the throng;
The doomed one now is led along;
