While appropriate reflections chased each other through his pate,
For he loved to pensively recount the treasures of the past,
And wondered constantly how long the family would last.
The place was dark and gloomy—he was shut up there alone,
When suddenly—his hair stood up!—he heard a hollow groan!
The cover of the largest urn rose up a little way,
A mist came forth, which altered to a figure dim and gray.
It rose up from the ashes, like the Phenix known of old,
But of such an awful bird as this the ancients never told.
It bore a distant likeness to the figure of a man,