The Ghost. - A Very Serious Ballad.

"I'll be your second." - LISTON.     In Middle Row, some years ago,     There lived one Mr. Brown;     And many folks considered him     The stoutest man in town.     But Brown and stout will both wear out -     One Friday he died hard,     And left a widow'd wife to mourn,     At twenty pence a yard.     Now widow B. in two short months     Thought mourning quite a tax;     And wished, like Mr. Wilberforce,     To manumit her blacks.     With Mr. Street she soon was sweet;     The thing came thus about:     She asked him in at home, and then     At church, he asked her out!     Assurance such as this the man     In ashes could not stand;     So like a Phoenix he rose up     Against the Hand in Hand!     One dreary night the angry sprite     Appeared before her view;     It came a little after one,     But she was after two!     "O Mrs. B., O Mrs. B.!     Are these your sorrow's deeds,     Already getting up a flame,     To burn your widows' weeds?     "It's not so long since I have left     For aye the mortal scene;     My memory - like Rogers's -     Should still be bound in green!     "Yet if my face you still retrace,     I almost have a doubt -     I'm like an old Forget-me-not,     With all the leaves torn out!     "To think that on that finger joint     Another pledge should cling;     O Bess! upon my very soul     It struck like 'Knock and Ring,'"     "A ton of marble on my breast     Can't hinder my return;     Your conduct, ma'am, has set my blood     A-boiling in my urn!"     "Remember, oh! remember, how     The marriage rite did run, -     If ever we one flesh should be     'Tis now - when I have none!     "And you, Sir - once a bosom friend -     Of perjured faith convict,     As ghostly toe can give no blow,     Consider you are kick'd.     "A hollow voice is all I have,     But this I tell you plain,     Marry come up! - you marry, ma'am,     And I'll come up again."     More he had said, but chanticleer     The spritely shade did shock     With sudden crow, - and off he went,     Like fowling-piece at cock!