The smallpox hospital
Derelict and like a ghost house
Stood like a whistling shell
On the corner of Sneyd and Cresswell
Like a little Alamo
Whitewashed with wind
Sullen in the square night
Until the sun dipped in
When the white sheeted beds
Were in a row in a small room
And the doctors of the day
Stood over the babes all smitten and blue
To rescue who they could
To nurse who they will
In the time between
Time and ghostly shadows
As children of a latter day
Walked by that way and asked
What is that place that stands
On the corner of Sneyd and Cresswell?
Like a collapsing house of cards
That seemed to whisper
Why am I left behind?
To be feared and frightened
The children on the way to school
Who whisper, that ‘s the ghost house
A ghost house real and true
And it reputation grew and grew
Who knows what’s buried there
Or why it a left to decay and die
On the corner of Sneyd and Cresswell
A mile outside the little town
