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George MacDonald
GHOST  I am thy father’s spirit, 14 Doomed for a certain term to walk the night 15 And for the day confined to fast in fires 16 Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature 17 Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid 18 To tell the secrets of my prison house, 19 I could a tale unfold whose lightest word 20 Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, 21 Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their 22 spheres, 23 Thy knotted and combinèd locks to part, 24 And each particular hair to stand an end, 25 Like quills upon the fearful porpentine. 26 But this eternal blazon must not be 27 To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O list! 28 If thou didst ever thy dear father love—
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