"There are no ghosts in America."

THERE are no ghosts, you say,

T

To haunt her blaze of light;

No shadows in her day,

No phantoms in her night.

Columbus' tattered sail

Has passed beyond our hail.

What? On that magic coast,

Where Raleigh fought with fate,

Or where that Devon ghost

Unbarred the Golden Gate,

No dark, strange, ear-ringed men

Beat in from sea again?

No ghosts in Salem town

With silver buckled shoon?

No lovely witch to drown

Or burn beneath the moon?

Not even a whiff of tea,

On Boston's glimmering quay.

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