Classic Poem

Anon came slowly moving up the flood
A phantom boat, and near the island drew;
The helmsman's headless trunk was spouting blood!
Like murderous demons looked the spectral crew,
As if intent some fearful deed to do!
The poor man's courage fled before the sight;—
Upon his quaking knees himself he threw
And clasped the blessed volume in affright;
Nor did he quit his hold till all again was right.