Ghosts. By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

One need not be a chamber to be haunted,
    One need not be a house;
    The brain has corridors surpassing
    Material place.

    Far safer, of a midnight meeting
    External ghost,
    Than an interior confronting
    That whiter host.

    Far safer through an Abbey gallop,
    The stones achase,
    Than, moonless, one’s own self encounter
    In lonesome place.

    Ourself, behind ourself concealed,
    Should startle most;
    Assassin, hid in our apartment,
    Be horror’s least.

    The prudent carries a revolver,
    He bolts the door,
    O’erlooking a superior spectre
    More near.