There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave
To tell us this.

There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave
To tell us this.

So many ghosts, and forms of fright,
Have started from their graves to-night,
They have driven sleep read more

So many ghosts, and forms of fright,
Have started from their graves to-night,
They have driven sleep from mine eyes away;
I will go down to the chapel and pray.

Where entity and quiddity,
The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly.

Where entity and quiddity,
The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly.

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.

Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee!
read more

Is this a dagger which I see before me,
The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee!
I have thee not, and yet I see thee still.
Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible
To feeling as to sight? or art thou but
A dagger of the mind, a false creation
Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain?
I see thee yet, in form as palpable
As this which now I draw.

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.

Whence and what are thou, execrable shape?

Whence and what are thou, execrable shape?

All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear,
All intellect, all sense, and as they please
read more

All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear,
All intellect, all sense, and as they please
They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size,
Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare.