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“See,” she cried, “the river-bank— the
dark rushing stream. Ah, we are all alone,
side by side, far away from every one.
Fool! if you could read my heart, would
you walk so near to the giddy brink ? Do
you think the memory of the old love will
stay my hand when the chance comes?
Old love is dead: you beat it, cursed it to
death. How fast does the stream run ?
Can a strong man swim against it ? Oh,
if I could be sure — sure that one push
would end it all and give me freedom!
Once I longed for love — your love. Now
I long for death — your death. Oh, brave
swift tide, are you strong enough to free
me forever ? Hark ! I can hear the roar of
the rapids in the distance. There is a deep
fall from the river cliff; there are rocks.
Fool ! you stand at the very edge, and look
down. The moment is come. Ah !”
― Victorian Christmas Stories: 13 Scary Ghost Stories to Read on A Dark, Snowy Night
dark rushing stream. Ah, we are all alone,
side by side, far away from every one.
Fool! if you could read my heart, would
you walk so near to the giddy brink ? Do
you think the memory of the old love will
stay my hand when the chance comes?
Old love is dead: you beat it, cursed it to
death. How fast does the stream run ?
Can a strong man swim against it ? Oh,
if I could be sure — sure that one push
would end it all and give me freedom!
Once I longed for love — your love. Now
I long for death — your death. Oh, brave
swift tide, are you strong enough to free
me forever ? Hark ! I can hear the roar of
the rapids in the distance. There is a deep
fall from the river cliff; there are rocks.
Fool ! you stand at the very edge, and look
down. The moment is come. Ah !”
― Victorian Christmas Stories: 13 Scary Ghost Stories to Read on A Dark, Snowy Night
