"One stern, tyrannic thought, that made All other thoughts its slave; Stronger and stronger every pulse Did that temptation crave,-- Still urging me to go and see The dead man in his grave! "Heavily I rose up,--as soon As light was in the sky.-- And sought the black, accursed pool With a wild, misgiving eye; And I saw the dead in the river bed, For the faithless stream was dry! "Merrily rose the lark, and shook The dewdrop from its wing; But I never mark'd its morning flight, I never heard it sing; For I was stooping once again Under the horrid thing. "With breathless speed, like a soul in chase, I took him up and ran,-- There was no time to dig a grave Before the day began: In a lonesome wood, with heaps of leaves, I hid the murdered man. "And all that day I read in school, But my thought was other where: As soon as the mid-day task was done, In secret I was there; And a mighty wind had swept the leaves, And still the corse was bare! "Then down I cast me on my face, And first began to weep, For I knew my secret then was one That earth refused to keep; Or land or sea, though he should be Ten thousand fathoms deep! "So wills the fierce avenging sprite, Till blood for blood atones! Ay, though he's buried in a cave, And trodden down with stones, And years have rotted off his flesh-- The world shall see his bones! "Oh God, that horrid, horrid dream Besets me now awake! Again--again, with a dizzy brain, The human life I take; And my red right hand grows raging hot, Like Cranmer's at the stake. "And still no peace for the restless clay Will wave or mould allow; The horrid thing pursues my soul,-- It stands before me now!" The fearful boy looked up, and saw Huge drops upon his brow! That very night, while gentle sleep The urchin eyelids kiss'd, Two stern-fac'd men set out from Lynn, Through the cold and heavy mist; And Eugene Aram walked between, With gyves upon his wrist. Mr. Planché's versification of the homely proverb--Poverty parts good company--will create many good-natured smiles, and run counter with Mr. Kenney's To-morrow. Some of the minor pieces are very pleasing, especially two by Hartley Coleridge, Esq.