The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1898-03-17
And through the bars that hide the

stars
White faces seemed to peer.
But there is no sleep when men must
weep
Who never yet have wept:
So we-the fool, the fraud, the
knave-
That endless vigil kept,
And through each brain on hands OF
pain
Another's terror crept.
The gray cock crew. the red cock
crew,
But never came the day;
And crooked shapes Of Terror
crouched,
In the corners where We lay;
And in each evil sprite that walks
by night
Before us seemed to play.
The Imagination of the writer is given
free scope in handling these spirits. and
they are not in the least restricted in
their antics and revelries:-
Around, around they waltzed and
wound;
Some wheeled in smirldng pairs;
With the mincing step of demirep
Some sided up the stairs;
And the subtle sneer, mad the fawn-
ing leer.
Each helped us at our prayers.
There was no sleep that night. and the
open eyes strained TO catch the first sign
Of the coming dawn.
At last the spirits Of the Imagination
preaching daystruggled over high walls
and through prison bars
At last I saw the Swallowed bars,
Like lattice wrought in lead.
Move right across the white washed
wall
That faced my three planked bed.
And I knew that somewhere in the
world
Gods dreadful dawn was red.
Again the minutes dragged, as the pris-
oner waited for the hour that begins the
daily toll that must proceed, regardless
of the coming of Death
At six o'clock we cleaned our cells,
At seven all was still.
But the sough and swing of mighty
wing
The prison seemed TO fill
For the Lord OF Death with icy
breath
Had entered in 70 Kill.
He did not pass in purple pomp.
Nor ride a moon white steed.
Three yards Of cord and a sliding
board
Are all the gallow's need.
So with rope Of shame the herald
came
To do the secret deed.
During the Two hours before "the stroke
OF eight the writer contemplates Hope
that is dead, and grim Justice that goes
its way. and waits the fatal hour
We waited for the stroke of eight:
Each tongue was thick with thirst
For the stroke Of eight is the stroke
OF Fate
That makes man accursed.
And Fate viii use a running moose
For the best man and the worst.
Then comes a wait with batsd breath.as
the prisoners who. through neshes of
bars and over walls could see ne upper
members OF the fatal gsliowg. and
strained their eyes as they gazed AZ Il. and
those who were denied me sight listened
with attentive ears
We saw the greasy hempen rope
Hooked to the bIaekened beam.
Aud heard the prayer. the hangnans
snare.
Strangied into a scream
And all the woe tina, moved hin 50
Ina; he gave that bitter cry.
And the Wild regrets. and the bloody
sEests
None knew 80 well a. ].
For he who Ewes more lives than one
More deaths than one must de.
II thIs last verse o1otsd ire writer
makes the moss direct reference 20 him
self and 20 MS sufer!nzs through the 5ou-
be Ite that be hsd ed. bit szEsrng
brought ~ discovery. not regret
Mr. Wide heTe morales over ire event
and describes i,s effect On nc prlsoners.-
Bat there were smongS; Is All
who EsIked zi;a do~uczs q nes6.
Ana zaeE that. rad sara got rs
due.
They should have I'D Iasiesd.
he had but killed a. thsag TIA; mSest.
Whilst tAss rad klged t5e dead
Silently ne zent round and rogat.
And ,nrouEh each holss< rziz1
Tee Msrrory q dreadful fairKs
Russs5 IKE ersz6tg! w.11