If you just take the first three stanzas of Longfellow’s Haunted Houses, it’s one of my current favourites (whyyyy can the man not STOP…), and the guests at table is probably my favourite line:
There are more guests at table, than the hosts
Invited; the illuminated hall
Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts,
As silent as the pictures on the wall.
I love that sense of creepy domesticity!