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 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. 
 For spirits when they please
 Can either sex assume, or both.  
 For spirits when they please
 Can either sex assume, or both. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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. 
 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! 
 Where entity and quiddity,
 The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly.  
 Where entity and quiddity,
 The ghosts of defunct bodies, fly. 
 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? 
 A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
 In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
 read more 
 A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.
 In the most high and palmy state of Rome,
  A little ere the mightiest Julius fell,
   The graves stood tenantless, and the sheeted dead
    Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets;
     As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood,
      Disasters in the sun; and the moist star
       Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands
        Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse.