You May Also Like / View all maxioms
Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men's names.
Of calling shapes, and beck'ning shadows dire,
And airy tongues that syllable men's names.
What beck'ning ghost along the moonlight shade
Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade?
What beck'ning ghost along the moonlight shade
Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade?
My people too were scared with eerie sounds,
A footstep, a low throbbing in the walls.
A read more
My people too were scared with eerie sounds,
A footstep, a low throbbing in the walls.
A noise of falling weights that never fell,
Weird whispers, bells that rang without a hand,
Door-handles turn'd when none was at the door,
And bolted doors that open'd of themselves;
And one betwixt the dark and light had seen
Her, bending by the cradle of her babe.
Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?
Why, so can I, or so can any man;
But will they come when you do call for them?
What are these,
So withered and so wild in their attire
That took not like th' inhabitants read more
What are these,
So withered and so wild in their attire
That took not like th' inhabitants o' th' earth
And yet are on't?
Who gather round, and wonder at the tale
Of horrid apparition, tall and ghastly,
That walks at read more
Who gather round, and wonder at the tale
Of horrid apparition, tall and ghastly,
That walks at dead of night, or takes his stand
O'er some new-open'd grave; and, (strange to tell!)
Evanishes at crowing of the cock.
I look for ghosts; but none will force
Their way to me; 'tis falsely said
That even read more
I look for ghosts; but none will force
Their way to me; 'tis falsely said
That even there was intercourse
Between the living and the dead.
Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth read more
Now it is the time of night
That the graves, all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the churchway paths to glide.
Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts.
Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts.
