In the night came the ghost;
Now he stands at the foot
‘Twas a handsome young lad,
Except that he needed a head.
He waited, most patient,
Until she woke up
To see him at the foot of her bed.
Sarah said, “Oh, hello there.
I see by your hat that
You’re a young man who is dead.”
“Am I that transparent?
The ghost fellow said.
“If I had one my face would be red.”
“Well, just keep your place now
And we’ll get along,”
Said Sarah and went back to bed.
But when Sarah woke up
At her usual hour,
The young ghost has not gone away.
“Just see here,” Sarah cried,
“You must disappear.
You can’t haunt me during the day.”
“It’s a curse,” moaned the ghost,
“But I cannot depart
Until I scare you – so they say.”
“Well, forget that old chum,”
Sarah said with a shrug.
“That’s one game that I cannot play.”
She went off to get dressed,
But the ghost just remained
And he was one most dismal shade.
And Lisa, he learned,
Would not scream, shriek or jump
Whatever the prank that he played.
He could not depart;
He simply hung out
Refusing so much as to fade.
How sadly he haunted
The foot of her bed,
Ignoring the threats that she made.
“If you’re going to stay,”
At last Lisa said.
“You will just have to pay for your keep.”
Said the spirit, “My dear,
I have little cash,
So the rent had better be cheap.”
“Can you sing?” Sarah asked,
“Do you know Irish songs?”
Said he: “Why, that’s not too steep.”
So he started to sing
And he knew all the songs
And his voice it was gentle and deep.
Of her bed and he sings.
And Sarah can not get to sleep.