_Visitor_, I-136, Sept. 23, 1809, Richmond.
THE SQUEAKING GHOST. A tale imitated from the German.
_Select Reviews_, II-357, Nov. 1809, Phila.
[Also in _Charms of Lit. in Prose and Verse_, p. 350, 1808, Trenton.]
To those who have admired the singular poems of Lewis, Walter Scott, and others, under the whimsical titles of "The Cloud-King," "The Fire-King," etc., the following burlesque ballad may afford some amusement.
Fair Ellen, was once the delight of the young; No damsel could with her compare; Her charms were the theme of the heart and the tongue, And bards without number in extacies sung The beauties of Ellen, the Fair.
But Ellen, though lovers in regiments threw The darts of their eyes at her heart, From the sorrow no pitying sympathy knew; For, cold as an icicle-shower, they drew Not a drop from that petrified part.
Yet still did the heart of fair Ellen implore A something that could not be found; Like a sailor it seem'd on a desolate shore, With nor house, nor a tree, nor a sound, but the roar Of breakers high-dashing around.
From object to object, still, still would she stray Yet nothing, alas! could she find; Through Novelty's mazes she rambled all day, And even at midnight, so restless, they say, In sleep would run after the wind.
Nay, rather than sit like a statue so still, When the rain made her mansion a pound, Up and down would she go like the sails of a mill, And pat every stair, like a wood-pecker's bill, From the tiles of the roof to the ground.
One morn, as the maid from her casement reclin'd, Pass'd a youth with a frame in his hand. The casement she clos'd; not the eye of her mind; For do all she could, no, she could not be blind; Still before her she saw the youth stand.
"And what can he do," said the maid with a sigh, "Ah! what with that frame can he do? I wish I could know it." When suddenly by The youth pass'd again; and again did her eye The frame, and a sweet picture view.
"Oh! sweet, lovely picture!" the fair Ellen sigh'd, "I must see thee again or I die;" Then under her white chin her bonnet she tied, And after the youth and the picture she hied, Till the youth, looking back, met her eye.
"Fair damsel," said he (and he chuckled the while), "This picture, I see, you admire; Then take it, I beg you, perhaps 'twill beguile Some moments of sorrow: (pray pardon my smile) Or, at least, keep you home by the fire."