Rotherham(i)
14 Dread, came upon me, and trembling, The multitude of my bones, it put in dread:
15 Then, a spirit, over my face, floated along, The hair of my flesh bristled–up:
16 It stood still, but I could not distinguish its appearance, I looked, but there was no form before mine eyes,––A whispering voice, I heard:––