The only Ghost I ever saw
Was dressed in Mechlin — so —
He wore no sandal on his foot —
And stepped like flakes of snow —
His Gait — was soundless, like the Bird —
But rapid — like the Roe —
His fashions, quaint, Mosaic —
Or haply, Mistletoe —
His conversation — seldom —
His laughter, like the Breeze —
That dies away in Dimples
Among the pensive Trees —
Our interview — was transient —
Of me, himself was shy —
And God forbid I look behind —
Since that appalling Day!
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