'Tis so appalling-it exhilarates-
So over Horror, it half Captivates-
The Soul stares after it, secure-
A Sepulchre, fears frost, no more-

To scan a Ghost, is faint-
But grappling, conquers it-
How easy, Torment, now-
Suspense kept sawing so-

The Truth, is Bald, and Cold-
But that will hold-
If any are not sure-
We show them-prayer-
But we, who know,
Stop hoping, now-

Looking at Death, is Dying-
Just let go the Breath-
And not the pillow at your Cheek
So Slumbereth-

Others, Can wrestle-
Yours, is done-
And so of Woe, bleak dreaded-come,
It sets the Fright at liberty-
And Terror's free-
Gay, Ghastly, Holiday!