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.

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.

I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

I can call spirits from the vasty deep.

The unexpected disappearance of Mr. Canning from the scene,
followed by the transient and embarrassed phantom of Lord
read more

The unexpected disappearance of Mr. Canning from the scene,
followed by the transient and embarrassed phantom of Lord
Goderich.

For spirits when they please
Can either sex assume, or both.

For spirits when they please
Can either sex assume, or both.

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.

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.