Robert Blair

When it draws near to witching time of night.

When it draws near to witching time of night.

The common damn'd shun their society.

The common damn'd shun their society.

Ye undertakers, tell us,
'Midst all the gorgeous figures you exhibit,
Why is the principal conceal'd, for read more

Ye undertakers, tell us,
'Midst all the gorgeous figures you exhibit,
Why is the principal conceal'd, for which
You make this mighty stir?

The grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.

The grave, dread thing!
Men shiver when thou'rt named: Nature appalled,
Shakes off her wonted firmness.

Careless, unsocial plant! that loves to dwell
'Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs and worms:
Where light-heel'd ghosts read more

Careless, unsocial plant! that loves to dwell
'Midst skulls and coffins, epitaphs and worms:
Where light-heel'd ghosts and visionary shades,
Beneath the wan, cold Moon (as Fame reports)
Embodied, thick, perform their mystic rounds
No other merriment, dull tree! is thine.