CHORUS.

  Some of the Ghosts were short, some of the Ghosts were tall,
  Some of them had most preposterous noddles, and some of them none at all,
  They all gave a shrill “Ha! ha!” they all gave a hushed “Ho! ho!”
  I turned in a fright and I wished ’em good night—­but they would not let
      me go!

  Then one of the Ghosts began to speak; down on my knees I sank,
  “I am a Nobleman’s Ghost,” said he, “and mine offence is Rank! 
  I never cared for the Common Herd, the People I loved to crush;
  My only remark on the Poor was ‘Pooh!’ my retort to the Toilers ‘Tush!’
  And if they dared to grumble, why, I used to raise my rents,
  For I always held that the Mob were made to keep up the Cent-per-cents,
  And now in this Square I hear BURNS’s blare, see the Red Banner wave,
  And Society swished by the Socialist; so I cannot rest in my grave.”

CHORUS.

  Another Ghost commenced.  He said:  “I was a great R.A. 
  (I remember the time when we used to meet in “the pepper-pots,” over
      the way),
  My daubs were always hung on the line, for ourselves we used to judge,
  Our sole Ideal conventional cant, our technique broad brown smudge. 
  And now BURNE JONES’s pictures sell!!!”—­here he writhed with a
      spectral twist—­
  “And our ‘broad brown smudge’ gives way to the fudge cranks call
      ‘Impressionist.’ 
  I’ve lost my head, as perhaps you mark—­though I keep a ventriloquist
      tongue. 
  What’s the use of a head to an Artist Ghost, who has never a chance
      to be hung?”

CHORUS—­SOME OF THE GHOSTS, &C.

  A Lawyer’s Ghost wept on his post, and then began to state
  That the Revolution of Sixty-eight—­he meant of Six-and-eight—­
  For the abolition of needless fees, and the stopping of useless jaw,
  Had capped the murder of Privilege by the massacre of Law: 
  Order, this Spook went on to state, was the prey of police—­less prank,
  All the real jam of life was lost with the abolition of Rank. 
  Here he wept!  Ah! can there be a sight a pitiful breast to thrill
  Like the Ghost of a Lawyer dropping a tear o’er the Ghost of a
      Lawyer’s Bill?

CHORUS—­SOME OF THE GHOSTS, &C.

  I woke.  A pain possessed my head.  The gathered Ghosts were gone,
  And I lay there in Trafalgar Square, on a cold stone alone. 
  I seemed to hear a wailing cry, a whisper on the breeze,
  Which said, in accents I well knew, “Now then, Time, Gentlemen,
      please!”
  It may have been the warning to recall those vagrant Ghosts
  To ——­ wheresoever they abide, poor pallid spectral hosts! 
  What it all meant I cannot tell, but this at least I know,
  To that Psychical Society no more at night I’ll go!

CHORUS.

  Some of the Ghosts did goggle, some of the Spooks did stare,
  But there they sat in a spectral row round “the Squirts” in Trafalgar
      Square. 
  They all gave a loud “Ha! ha!” they all gave a loud “Ho! ho!”
  And I turned and fled, and got home to bed as the rooster began to crow!