Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/142

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130

And fearful are his dreams at night
 And dread to him the day;
He thinks upon his untold crime
 And never dares to pray.

The summer suns, the winter storms,
 O'er him unheeded roll,
For heavy is the weight of blood
 Upon the maniac's soul.

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