How midnight Ghosts o'er vaults terrific pass,
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Dance o'er the Grave, and slide along the grass;
How Maids forsaken haunt the lonely wood,
And tye the Noose, or try the willow flood;
How rural Heroes overcame the giants,
And through the ramshorn trumpet blew defiance;
Or how pale Cicely, within the wood,
Call'd Satan forth and bargain'd with her blood.
These, honest Curio, are thine, and these