Died they raving, one by one!

XIII.

--Told the vain and painful striving,
By shot-weighted shrouds to hide
(Last fond care), from those surviving,
What good comrade last had died;
Yet the ghastly things kept showing,
Waist deep in the unquiet grave--
To each other gravely bowing
On the slow swing of the wave!

XIV.

Eric's boat is near the landing--
From that dark ship bring they aught?
In the stern sheets ONE is standing,
Though their eyes perceive him not;
But a curdling horror creepeth
Thro' their veins, with icy darts,
And each hurried oar-stroke keepeth
Time with their o'er-labouring hearts!

XV.

Heavy seems their boat returning,
Weighted with a world of care!
Oh, ye blind ones--none discerning
WHAT the spectral freight ye bear.