Its lips in the field above are dabbled with blood

red heath,

The red-ribb'd ledges drip with a silent horror of

blood,

And Echo there, whatever is ask'd her, answers

'Death.'

2.

For there in the ghastly pit long since a body was

found,

His who had given me life -O father! O God!

was it well?.

Mangled, and flatten'd, and crush'd, and dinted into

the ground:

There yet lies the rock that fell with him when he

fell.

3.

Did he fling himself down? who knows? for a great speculation had fail'd,

And ever he mutter'd and madden'd, and ever

wann'd with despair,

And out he walk'd when the wind like a broken

worldling wail'd,

And the flying gold of the ruin'd woodlands drove

thro' the air.