Young Silas Long, a carrier through these woods

" Young Silas Long, a carrier through these woods,
Drove home one night in not the best of moods,
Having just seen a drowned man flung ashore
With a strange feather cap. And once before,
When he was hauling seine in Southold Bay
About this time of year, a seaman's corse
Washed up, with such a cap and such a face,
And it had brought misfortune on the place.
Pondering he drove; when lo, across the way
He saw, too late, that there a body lay,
Felt the wheels tilt but could not stop his horse
Or not at once, then — flinging with a slap
The old cloth cover down he called a cap —
Ran back, ten steps or more, and nothing found ...
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