He saw within the moonlight in his room
The spirit of a Presidential boom,
Who wrote on parchment tanned from human skin.
Exceeding “cheek” caused Butler to begin,
And to the presence in the room he said—
“What writest thou?”—the Spectre raised his head,
And answered with a gesture most uncouth,
“The names of demagogues who love the truth.”
“Is mine left out?” said Butler. “I should smile,”
Replied the spirit. Butler thought awhile;