The Haunted Hour | Page 7

wind on the heath?Whistled its song of vague alarms;?All night in some mad dance of death?The poplars tossed their naked arms.
THE FORGOTTEN SOUL: MARGARET WIDDEMER
'Twas I that cried against the pane on All Souls' Night?(O pulse of my heart's life, how could you never hear?)?You filled the room I knew with yellow candlelight?And cheered the lass beside you when she cried in fear.
'Twas I that went beside you in the gray wood-mist?(O core of my heart's heart, how could you never know?)?You only frowned and shuddered as you bent and kissed?The lass hard by you, handfast, as I used to go.
'Twas I that stood to greet you on the churchyard pave?(O fire of my heart's grief, how could you never see?)?You smiled in careless dreaming as you crossed my grave?And hummed a little love-song where they buried me!
ALL-SOULS' NIGHT: DORA SIGERSON
O mother, mother, I swept the hearth, I set his chair
and the white board spread,?I prayed for his coming to our kind Lady when Death's
doors would let out the dead;?A strange wind rattled the window-pane, and down the
lane a dog howled on,?I called his name and the candle flame burnt dim, pressed
a hand the door-latch upon.?Deelish! Deelish! my woe forever that I could not sever
coward flesh from fear.?I called his name and the pale ghost came; but I was
afraid to meet my dear.
O mother, mother, in tears I checked the sad hours past
of the year that's o'er,?Till by God's grace I might see his face and hear the
sound of his voice once more;?The chair I set from the cold and wet, he took when he
came from unknown skies?Of the land of the dead, on my bent brown head I felt
the reproach of his saddened eyes;?I closed my lids on my heart's desire, crouched by the fire,
my voice was dumb.?At my clean-swept hearth he had no mirth, and at my
table he broke no crumb.?Deelish! Deelish! my woe forever that I could not sever
coward flesh from fear.?His chair put aside when the young cock cried, and I
was afraid to meet my dear.
JANET'S TRYST: GEORGE MACDONALD
"Sweep up the flure, Janet,?Put on anither peat.?It's a lown and starry nicht, Janet,?And neither cold nor weet.
And it's open hoose we keep the nicht?For ony that may be oot;?It's the nicht atween the Sancts an' Souls?Whan the bodiless gang aboot.
Set the chairs back to the wall, Janet,?Mak' ready for quaiet fowk,?Hae a' thing as clean as a windin'-sheet--?They comena ilka ook.
There's a spale upo' the flure, Janet,?And there's a rowan berry.?Sweep them into the fire, Janet,--?They'll be welcomer than merry.
Syne set open the door, Janet,--?Wide open for wha kens wha:?As ye come to your bed, Janet,?Set it open to the wa'."
She set the chairs back to the wa',?But ane made of the birk,?She swept the flure, but left ane spale,?A long spale o' the aik.
The nicht was lown, and the stars sat still?A-glintin' doon the sky:?And the sauls crept oot o' their mooly graves,?A' dank wi' lyin' by.
When midnight came the mither rase--?She wad gae see an' hear.?Back she cam' wi' a glowrin' face,?An' sloomin' wi' verra fear.
"There's ane o' them sittin' afore the fire!?Janet, gae na to see;?Ye left a chair afore the fire,?Whaur I tauld ye nae chair sud be."
Janet she smiled in her mither's face:?She had brunt the roddin reid:?And she left aneath the birken chair?The spale frae a coffin lid.
She rase and she gaed but the hoose,?Aye steekin' door and door,?Three hours gaed by ere her mother heard?Her fit upo' the flure.
But whan the grey cock crew she heard?The soun' o' shoeless feet,?Whan the red cock crew she heard the door?An' a sough o' wind an' weet.
An' Janet cam' back wi' a wan face,?But never a word said she;?No man ever heard her voice lood oot--?It cam' like frae ower the sea.
And no man ever heard her lauch,?Nor yet say alas nor wae;?But a smile aye glimmert on her wan face?Like the moonlicht on the sea.
And ilka nicht 'twixt the Sancts an' Souls?Wide open she set the door;?And she mendit the fire, and she left ae chair?And that spale upo' the flure.
And at midnicht she gaed but the hoose,?Aye steekin' door and door.?Whan the red cock crew she cam' ben the hoose,?Aye wanner than before.
Wanner her face and sweeter her smile,?Till the seventh All-Souls Eve?Her mither she heard the shoeless feet,?Says "She's comin', I believe."
But she camna ben, an' her mither lay;?For fear she cudna stan',?But up she rase an' ben she gaed?Whan the gowden cock hed crawn.
And Janet sat upo' the chair,?White as the day did daw,?Her smile was as sunlight left on the sea?Whan the sun has gane awa.
HALLOWS' E'EN: WINIFRED M. LETTS
The girls are laughing with the boys, and gaming by the fire, They're wishful, every one of them, to see her heart's desire, Twas Thesie cut the barnbrack and