The Ghost of Crazy Jane

Dark and dismal was the evening;
Hoarse the raven croak'd afar;
Drousy bats flew round in clusters —
Faintly beam'd the evening star.
Round yon mould'ring tower the ivy,
Closely clasp'd, tho' faintly seen;
Highly perch'd the night owl, screeching,
Sung the dirge of Crazy Jane.

Hark, the hollow vaults remurmur'd!
Gusty blasts the turret shake:
Towers did totter on their bases;
Hungry graves did yawning gape:
When lo! a phantom by me glided,
Slowly shifting o'er the green,
Says, " Fear me not, thou tim'rous stranger,
" I'm the Ghost of Crazy Jane!

" Nightly from this grave I wander,
" To my Henry's lonely bed;
" Warding off the evil genius,
" Hov'ring round his lovely head.
" Till that hour when death shall join us,
" Never more to part again;
" When by my side in this lone grave,
" He'll repose with Crazy Jane. "

Fled was all that rosy colour,
Once adorn'd her lovely cheek;
Those winning smiles, and dimpling graces,
Those modest looks so softly sweet.
The lily-neck the heaving bosom,
The graceful and majestic mien —
A faded form, and shrouded spectre,
Was all remain'd of Crazy Jean.

Loud the cock sung out the morning,
Mild the sun beam'd out the day;
Quick she started as affrighted!
Says " Farewell, I must away! " —
Swift she fled on wings of morning,
Gliding o'er the dewy scene:
But strong imagination painted
All the woes of Crazy Jane!
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