Mary's Ghost. A Pathetic Ballad.

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Mary's Ghost. A Pathetic Ballad.
by Thomas Hood

'Twas in the middle of the night,
   To sleep young William tried,
When Mary's ghost came stealing in,
   And stood at his bed-side.

O William dear ! O William dear !
   My rest eternal ceases;
Alas ! my everlasting peace
   Is broken into pieces.

I thought the last of all my cares
   Would end with my last minute;
But tho' I went to my long home,
   I didn't stay long in it.

The body-snatchers they have come,
   And made a snatch at me;
It's very hard them kind of men
   Won't let a body be !

You thought that I was buried deep,
   Quite decent like and chary,
But from her grave in Mary-bone
   They've come and boned your Mary.

The arm that used to take your arm
   Is took to Dr. Vyse;
And both my legs are gone to walk
   The hospital at Guy's.

I vow'd that you should have my hand,
   But fate gives us denial;
You'll find it there, at Doctor Bell's,
   In spirits and a phial.

As for my feet, the little feet
   You used to call so pretty,
There's one, I know, in Bedford Row,
   The t'other's in the city.

I can't tell where my head is gone,
   But Doctor Carpue can:
As for my trunk, it's all pack'd up
   To go by Pickford's van.

I wish'd you'd go to Mr. P.
   And save me such a ride:
I don't half like the outside place,
   They've took for my inside.

The cock it crows—I must be gone !
   My William, we must part !
But I'll be yours in death, altho'
   Sir Astley has my heart.

Don't go to weep upon my grave,
   And think that there I be;
They haven't left an atom there
   Of my anatomie.

This work was published before January 1, 1926, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.