The Ghost. Poem by Daniel Baker

Lo! to thee in this silent Sheet
Appears the Ghost of thy departed Lover:
Dear, do not any fear discover,
The harmless Sp'rit thou may'st with safety meet.
It only loves to walk and wander nigh
The happy Place, where its dear Treasures hidden lie.

Let that false glozing Hypocrite,
That basely did our secret Love disclose
And all our Happiness oppose,
Grow pale, and tremble, when she sees the Spright:
But I'll not visit her; the guilty Hagg
Is haunted by her self, and needs no other Plague.

How welcome did the Day arise
When I with thee, my Dear, might freely walk,
And unsuspected talk;
Then when we fear'd no watchful Ears nor Eyes,
When careless and secure we reap'd the Blisses
Of chast Embraces, and Ten Thousand harmless Kisses!

She, sure, Love's Force has never known
That could so cruelly divide us Two,
O may she burn to purpose now,
'Till she's so black, and drie, and blister'd grown,
That none may venture when she's scorched thus,
To quench her flaming Lust, but some foul Incubus!

Well, since our mortal Life is gone,
And Separation is become our state,
Let us with Hope and Patience wait
'Till we be rais'd anew, and joyn'd in one:
Then will our Bliss my dear, more full arise,
And then we'll feast upon more ripe and perfect Joys.