But ha! Mayhap it fits your jest, with elongated groan,
To seek to fright me, as I'm here in Hampton Court alone,
To wreck my spirits as of old has been the game of spook,"
The spectre turned upon me with a sad reproachful look.
And cried, "Alack! that living men, so long have held it good,
To flee from Ghosts, and hence the Ghost is not yet understood,
Now as for me, I moan it not, for jest of idle sport,
My task, it is as murdered Ghost, to haunt in Hampton Court!
I play the victim to a spook, who chucked me down a stair,