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.