"I FEAR there's no more hope," the doctor said.
My friends assembled round my dying bed
With tearful faces, pale as they could be,
Expecting now my last death gasp to see.

I struggled only once and then lay still.
To move or speak I only had the will.
The doctor, leaning softly o'er the bed,
Seeing I'd ceased to breathe pronounced me dead.

My friends then all grew very sickly pale,
My sisters all began to loudly wail.
My mother screamed and fainted dead away.
The fat old parson for my soul did pray.

Not the shortest word had my lips the power to utter,
Not the slightest sound nor syllable then could I mutter.
I could not show my soul had not yet fled;
Just like a corpse I lay upon the bed.

The very next day, about a quarter to five,
A beautiful casket did at the house arrive.
Of the finest polished rosewood 'twas all made,
And with gold and silver handsomely inlaid.

Within the casket then was I encased,
And on the parlour table quickly placed.
A wreath of roses lay upon my chest,
With this inscription, "Here he lies at rest."

And all the room was filled with lovely flowers
Which had been gathered from the neighbouring bowers.
The window curtains all were tightly closed,
And dark the room in which I then reposed.

And thus I lay for many a dreary hour
With mind still clear, but yet without the power
To move or speak, or any way to give
My friends a sign to show I still did live.

They all in whispered murmurings did tell,
Gazing on him whom once they'd loved so well,
Of all the traits my character had had,
And all were melancholy, pale, and sad.

The door swung back, the clergyman came in,
He'd snow white hair, red nose, and double chin.
He held a gold-edged prayer book in one hand,
And gazed around with countenance quite bland.

He placed himself close to the casket head,
"Peace be to thee," he then devoutly said.
And opening the gilded book he read
With solemn voice the service of the dead.

Loud groans and moans and sobs did rend the air
Upon the closing of the funeral prayer.
The undertaker shut the casket's lid,
And then in utter darkness I was hid.

The casket then was placed within the hearse,
My dreary prospects growing yet still worse.
I felt the motion as the wheels turned round;
The hearse was moving slowly o'er the ground.

How far we rode I really cannot say.
The hearse did jar me badly all the way
As over stumps and stones we roughly rode,
Drawing me nearer to my last abode.

At length we finished up our dismal drive
And at the family vault we did arrive.
The casket then was placed upon its shelf,
And now my feelings you may guess yourself.

Long hours thus I lay within the tomb
With mind still raging on my awful doom,
And wishing that it quickly might be o'er,
That I might be at rest forevermore.

While thinking on my miserable fate,
I sunk into a semi-conscious state.
My shattered thoughts then took another turn
And soon my heart with merriment did burn.

Upon a handsome chair I seemed to sit
Within a spacious hall all brightly lit.
Before a table strewn with cake and wine,
And silver plate of beautiful design.

The great room seemed all filled with merry guests,
All drinking ale and beer and making jests.
None gazed upon me as they walked the hall—
I seemed to be a stranger midst them all.

At last one looked upon me with a leer,
Then roared aloud, "What means this fellow here,
Sitting up stiff like a lazy worthless lout.
Come, along, boys, and let us oust him out!"

And then the noisy drunken rabbling crowd;
With awful maledictions, fierce and loud,
Rushed straight upon me with a deaf'ning scream
That echoed through the hall from beam to beam.
And swinging heavy clubs and canes and sticks,
And jeering at my useless yells and kicks,
Dragged me across the spacious hall so bright,
Opened a window, where the moon gave light,
Gazing but once at the beautiful starry night,
Out of the window, they flung me with all their might.

On the way down my head did roughly bump
Against the side of the house with many a thump,
Sharp throbs of pain shot quickly through my head,
And ere I reached the ground all sense had fled.

When sense returned I heard a voice, that said,
"For my share boys, I mean to have the head."
I wondered whether I did dream again,
When on my neck I felt a cutting pain.

And opening my eyes, behold, I saw,
A ghastly sight, that struck me dumb with awe.
A sight that made my frame with terror shake;
A sight that made my very marrow quake;
A sight that drove the cold sweat from my brow,
On thought of which, I even tremble now
As on this sheet I pen this fearful tale,
One that should make the hardest heart grow pale.

I lay upon a table all surrounded
By fiendish, beastly men with looks astounded.
Each member of this miserable band
Clutched tight a knife within his brawny hand.

Looking upon me a moment in speechless fright,
Never before in their lives had they seen such a sight.
Out of the room with frantic screams they tore
As quickly as they could, and slammed the door.

It seems, when I'd laid in the vault about a day
Some medical students passing along that way,
Knowing a body had lately been cast within,
Thought if they carried it off, 'twould be no sin.

So into the vault they very stealthily broke,
And thinking they were all playing a capital joke,
Carried my senseless, deathlike body away
To a large dissecting room without delay.

And many happy years since then have fled,
Since that sad time, and still, I'm not yet dead.
Upon my neck there is an ugly scar,
Which does my looks considerably mar.
Reminding me how near death's door I lay
In years gone by—that memorable day.

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