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 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? 
 Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow,
 And Scipio's ghost walks unavenged amongst us!  
 Great Pompey's shade complains that we are slow,
 And Scipio's ghost walks unavenged amongst us! 
 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. 
 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. 
Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts.
Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts.
 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. 
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
 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. 
 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.