Dangerfield's Ghost TO Jefferys.  

REvenge! Revenge! my injured Shade begins  
To haunt thy guilty Soul, and scourge thy sins:  
For since to me thou ow'st the heaviest score,  
Whose living words tormented thee before,  
When Dead, I'm come to plague thee yet once more.  
Don't start away, nor think thy Brass to hide,  
But see the dismal shape in which I died!  
My Body all deformed with putrid Gore,  
Bleeding my Soul away at every Poor;  
Pushed faster on by Francis, less unkind;  
My Body swollen, and bloated as thy Mind.  
This dangling Eyeball rolls about in vain,  
Never to find its proper seat again,  
The hollow Cell usurped by Blood and Brain:  
The trembling Jury's Verdict ought to be  
Murdered at once, by Francis, and by Thee.   

The Groans of Orphans, and the ponderous guilt  
Of all the Blood that thou hast ever spilt;  
Thy Country's Curse, the Rabbles spite, and all  
Those Wishes sent thee since thy long-wished Fall;  
The Nobles just Revenge, so bravely bought,  
For all the Ills thy Insolence has wrought:  
May these and more their utmost force combine,  
Join all their wrongs, and mix their Cries with mine.   

And see, if Terror has not struck thee blind;  
See here a long, a ghastly Train behind!  
Far, far, from utmost WEST they crowd away,  
And hovering o'er, fright back the sickly Day;  
Had the poor Wretches sinned as much as Thee,  
Thou shouldst not have forgot Humanite:  
Who e'er in Blood can so much pleasure take?  
Tho' an ill Judge would a good Hangman make.  
Each hollows in thy Ears,— Prepare! Prepare  
For what thou must, yet what thou canst not bear!  
Each, at thy Heart a bloody Dagger aims,  
Upward to Gibbets point, downward to endless Flames.   
FINIS.