Is not
this a spectacle of woe?- Behold!"
I looked; and the unseen figure, which still grasped me by the
wrist, had caused to be thrown open the graves of all mankind, and
from each issued the faint phosphoric radiance of decay, so that I
could see into the innermost recesses, and there view the shrouded
bodies in their sad and solemn slumbers with the worm. But alas! the
real sleepers were fewer, by many millions, than those who slumbered
not at all; and there was a feeble struggling; and there was a general
sad unrest; and from out the depths of the countless pits there came a
melancholy rustling from the garments of the buried. And of those
who seemed tranquilly to repose, I saw that a vast number had changed,
in a greater or less degree, the rigid and uneasy position in which
they had originally been entombed. And the voice again said to me as I
gazed:
"Is it not- oh! is it not a pitiful sight?"- but, before I could
find words to reply, the figure had ceased to grasp my wrist, the
phosphoric lights expired, and the graves were closed with a sudden
violence, while from out them arose a tumult of despairing cries,
saying again: "Is it not- O, God, is it not a very pitiful sight?"
Phantasies such as these, presenting themselves at night, extended
their terrific influence far into my waking hours.
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