James Weldon Johnson (Джеймс Уэлдон Джонсон)
The Ghost of Deacon Brown
In a backwoods town Lived Deacon Brown, And he was a miser old; He would trust no bank, So he dug, and sank In the ground a box of gold, Down deep in the ground a box of gold. He hid his gold, As has been told, He remembered that he did it; But sad to say, On the very next day, He forgot just where he hid it: To find his gold he tried and tried Till he grew faint and sick, and died. Then on each dark and gloomy night A form in phosphorescent white, A genuine hair-raising sight, Would wander through the town. And as it slowly roamed around, With a spade it dug each foot of ground; So the folks about Said there was no doubt 'Twas the ghost of Deacon Brown. Around the church This Ghost would search, And whenever it would see The passers-by Take wings and fly It would laugh in ghostly glee, Hee, hee!--it would laugh in ghostly glee. And so the town Went quickly down, For they said that it was haunted; And doors and gates, So the story states, Bore a notice, "Tenants wanted." And the town is now for let, But the ghost is digging yet.
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