There’s a spectral Thing to be heard and seen.
O, the Family Ghost!
O, the Family Ghost!
A sound, as it were, of a rustling train,
That sweeps into the chambers, and out again,
And anon there appeareth an ancient Dame,
Like a figure stept out of a picture-frame,
In a stomacher, frill, and farthingale,
And her eyes glimmer through an antique lace-veil.
O, the Family Ghost!