I would not be a seraphim,

For far a sweeter sight would be

On bedpost sitting, twitting him,

Of his deceit and perfide;

I’d rathah be a dreadful ghost,

A sitting on a certain post.

I can give up my heavenly claim,

My seat upon the heavenly quiah;

I feel anotheh, wildeh aim—

To be a ghost is my desiah.