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Book of Hallowe'en, The

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<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> HALLOWE'EN</div> <div class="stanza"> Bring forth the raisins and the nuts— To-night All-Hallows' Spectre struts Along the moonlit way. No time is this for tear or sob, Or other woes our joys to rob, But time for Pippin and for Bob, And Jack-o'-lantern gay. </div> <div class="stanza"> Come forth, ye lass and trousered kid, From prisoned mischief raise the lid, And lift it good and high. Leave grave old Wisdom in the lurch, Set Folly on a lofty perch, Nor fear the awesome rod of birch When dawn illumes the sky. </div> <div class="stanza"> 'Tis night for revel, set apart To reillume the darkened heart, And rout the hosts of Dole. 'Tis night when Goblin, Elf, and Fay, Come dancing in their best array To prank and royster on the way, And ease the troubled soul. </div> <div class="stanza"> The ghosts of all things, past parade, Emerging from the mist and shade That hid them from our gaze, And full of song and ringing mirth, In one glad moment of rebirth, Again they walk the ways of earth, As in the ancient days. </div> <div class="stanza"> The beacon light shines on the hill, The will-o'-wisps the forests fill With flashes filched from noon; And witches on their broomsticks spry Speed here and yonder in the sky, And lift their strident voices high Unto the Hunter's moon. </div> <div class="stanza"> The air resounds with tuneful notes From myriads of straining throats, All hailing Folly Queen; So join the swelling choral throng, Forget your sorrow and your wrong, In one glad hour of joyous song To honor Hallowe'en. </div> </div> J. K. Bangs in Harper's Weekly, Nov. 5, 1910. <hr style="width: 85%;" /> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> HALLOWE'EN FAILURE</div> <div class="stanza"> Who's dat peekin' in de do'? Set mah heart a-beatin'! Thought I see' a spook for sho On mah way to meetin'. Heerd a rustlin' all aroun', Trees all sort o' jiggled; An' along de frosty groun' Funny shadders wriggled. </div> <div class="stanza"> Who's dat by de winder-sill? Gittin' sort o' skeery; Feets is feelin' kind o' chill, Eyes is sort o' teary. 'Most as nervous as a coon When de dawgs is barkin', Er a widder when some spoon Comes along a-sparkin'. </div> <div class="stanza"> Whass dat creepin' up de road, Quiet like a ferret, Hoppin' sof'ly as a toad? Maybe hit's a sperrit! Lordy! hope dey ain't no ghos' Come to tell me howdy. I ain't got no use for those Fantoms damp an' cloudy. </div> <div class="stanza"> Whass dat standin' by de fence Wid its eyes a-yearnin', Drivin' out mah common-sense Wid its glances burnin'? Don't dass skeercely go to bed Wid dem spookses roun' me. Ain't no res' fo' dis yere head When dem folks surroun' me. </div> <div class="stanza"> Whass dat groanin' soun' I hear Off dar by de gyardin? Lordy! Lordy! Lordy dear, Grant dis sinner pardon! I won't nebber—I declar' Ef it ain't my Sammy! Sambo, what yo' doin' dar? Yo' can't skeer yo' mammy! </div> </div> Carlyle Smith in Harper's Weekly, Oct. 29, 1910. <hr style="width: 85%;" /> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> HALLOWE'EN</div> <div class="stanza"> Pixie, kobold, elf, and sprite All are on their rounds to-night,— In the wan moon's silver ray Thrives their helter-skelter play. </div> <div class="stanza"> Fond of cellar, barn, or stack True unto the almanac, They present to credulous eyes Strange hobgoblin mysteries. </div> <div class="stanza"> Cabbage-stumps—straws wet with dew— Apple-skins, and chestnuts too, And a mirror for some lass Show what wonders come to pass. </div> <div class="stanza"> Doors they move, and gates they hide Mischiefs that on moonbeams ride Are their deeds,—and, by their spells, Love records its oracles. </div> <div class="stanza"> Don't we all, of long ago By the ruddy fireplace glow, In the kitchen and the hall, Those queer, coof-like pranks recall? </div> <div class="stanza"> Eery shadows were they then— But to-night they come again; Were we once more but sixteen Precious would be Hallowe'en. </div> </div> Joel Benton in Harper's Weekly, Oct. 31, 1896. <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/illus-178-tn.jpg" width-obs="287" height-obs="400" class="plain" alt="No Hallowe'en without a Jack-o'-Lantern." title="No Hallowe'en without a Jack-o'-Lantern." /> No Hallowe'en without a Jack-o'-Lantern.</div> <hr style="width: 85%;" /> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> HALLOWE'EN</div> <div class="stanza"> A gypsy flame is on the hearth, Sign of this carnival of mirth. Through the dun fields and from the glade Flash merry folk in masquerade— It is the witching Hallowe'en. </div> <div class="stanza"> Pale tapers glimmer in the sky, The dead and dying leaves go by; Dimly across the faded green Strange shadows, stranger shades, are seen— It is the mystic Hallowe'en. </div> <div class="stanza"> Soft gusts of love and memory Beat at the heart reproachfully; The lights that burn for those who die Were flickering low, let them flare high— It is the haunting Hallowe'en. </div> </div> A. F. Murray in Harper's Weekly, Oct. 30, 1909. <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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