WHAT is it? a speck in the distance, br A rumour that flies in the air, br Too faint to be met by resistance, br Too strong to be braved by despair. br br Just whispered about the street-corners, br Just traced by the timorous pen; br Like some scandal breathed out by suborners, br Which poisons the spirit of men. br br Where is it? but yesterday even br A man galloped in from the plain, br His eyes were a terrible leaven br Of horror, suspicion, and pain. br br He galloped straight up to the Town House, br And none heard the news which he said; br Thank God for the miles he had ridden, br For the horse which he rode dropped dead! br br The rumour grows darker and darker, br Each moment the agony swells; br Some say, ''Tis the trade of the doctors;' br And some, 'They have poisoned the wells.' br br A threatening doom o'er the city, br It hangs like a terrible sword; br No man for his fellow has pity, br When both dread the curse of the Lord.