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“Twas now the very witching time of night, When churchyards groan, and graves give up their dead, And many a mischievous, enfranchised sprite Had long since burst his bonds of stone or lead, And hurried off, with schoolboy-like delight, To play his pranks near some poor wretch's bed, Sleeping, perhaps serenely as a porpoise, Nor dreaming of this fiendish Habeas Corpus.” — Thomas Ingoldsby
Twas now the very witching time of night,
When churchyards groan, and graves give up their dead,
And many a mischievous, enfranchised sprite
Had long since burst his bonds of stone or lead,
And hurried off, with schoolboy-like delight,
To play his pranks near some poor wretch's bed,
Sleeping, perhaps serenely as a porpoise,
Nor dreaming of this fiendish Habeas Corpus.