The Conscientious Ghost.

Evening Star, Issue 7326, 26 September 1887, Page 3

The Conscientious Ghost.

" My duties," be remarked with tears, " I've never sought to shun; Yet hard it is that at my years They have again begun, " No one believed in me, or cared If I my vigils kept; My diligence the public spared, And undisturbed I slept. " Yet now I never close my eyes But in my dreams I seo These Psychical Societies Descending upon me. " They ask me whether I forgot To wander through the moat; They wonder what I mean by not Steering my phantom boat. " They would not think it such a joke To rattle fetters through The weary night till morning broke, As I have got to do. "Alas," he groaned, "on blood-stained floors Again to fight and fall! To shiver round the secret doors, The draughty banquet hall. " I say it was a heartless thought, Wherever he may dwell Who on us this disaster brought; I'd like to haunt him well. "And ah!" he cried, with rapture grim, " One thing consoles me most: We'll make it very warm for him When once he. is a ghost! " When every honest phantom sleeps He'll have to freeze in cells, And wring his hands by mouldy keeps, And jangle rusty bells." He paused, bis fetters to arrange, Adjust his winding-sheet; He murmured: "In this world of change One can't be too complete 1" He fixed on me a glance of woe, Then vanished into air; I heard his clanking fetter go Right down the winiing stair. Yet sometimes, when 'mid wind and rain I'm lying warm and dry, I seem to hear him clank his chain Beneath the dismal sky. M.E.