“ At midnight four times in each year does her sprite,
When mortals in slumber are bound,
Array'd in her bridal apparel of white,
Appear in the hall with her skeleton knight,
And shrieks as he whirls her around.
While they drink out of sculls newly torn from the grave,
Dancing round them pale spectres are seen:
Their liquor is blood, and this horrible stave
They howl, "To the health of Alonzo the Brave
And his consort the false Imogene."
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago. ”

“ The looking glass her eyes engross,
⁠While Betty humm’d a ditty;
She gazed so much upon her face,
⁠She really thought it pretty.
Her painted cheeks and pencil brows
⁠She could not but approve,
Her thoughts on varous subjects turn’d,
⁠At length she fix’d on love:
"And shall," said she, "a virgin life
⁠Await these pleasing charms? ”

“ Ever, he said, that, close and near,
A lady's voice was in his ear,
And that the priest he could not hear,
For that she ever sung.
"In the lost battle, borne down by the flying,
Where mingles war's rattle with groans of the dying!" ”