The Poetry Corner

There's Something Strange. A Buffalo Song.

By Thomas Moore

There's something strange, I know not what, Come o'er me, Some phantom I've for ever got Before me. I look on high and in the sky 'Tis shining; On earth, its light with all things bright Seems twining. In vain I try this goblin's spells To sever; Go where I will, it round me dwells For ever. And then what tricks by day and night It plays me; In every shape the wicked sprite Waylays me. Sometimes like two bright eyes of blue 'Tis glancing; Sometimes like feet, in slippers neat, Comes dancing. By whispers round of every sort I'm taunted. Never was mortal man, in short, So haunted.