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similar workings on the imagination of the Copper Indians (those of my Readers who have it in their power will be well repaid for the trouble of referring to those works for the passages alluded to); and I conceived the design of shewing that instances of this kind are not peculiar to savage or barbarous tribes, and of illustrating the mode in which the mind is affected in these cases, and the progress and symptoms of the morbid action on the fancy from the beginning.
The Tale is supposed to be narrated by an old Sexton, in a country church-yard, to a Traveller whose curiosity had been awakened by the appearance of three graves, close by each other, to two only of which there were grave-stones. On the first of these was the name, and dates, as usual: on the second, no name, but only a date, and the words, The Mercy of God is infinite.]
The Grapes upon the Vicar's wall
Were ripe as ripe could be;
And yellow leaves in Sun and Wind
Were falling from the Tree.
On the hedge-elms in the narrow lane
Still swung the strikes of corn:
Dear Lord! it seems but yesterday—
Young Edward's marriage-morn.
Up through that wood behind the church.
There leads from Edward's door
A mossy track, all over bough'd,
For half a mile or more.
