Read Ebook: Hellflower by Smith George O George Oliver Rose William William F Illustrator

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Ebook has 1755 lines and 69712 words, and 36 pages

PAGE

"THE NICHT ATWEEN THE SANCTS AN' SOULS"

"ALL THE LITTLE SIGHING SOULS"

SHADOWY HEROES

"RANK ON RANK OF GHOSTLY SOLDIERS"

SEA GHOSTS

CHEERFUL SPIRITS

HAUNTED PLACES

"YOU KNOW THE OLD, WHILE I KNOW THE NEW"

"MY LOVE THAT WAS SO TRUE"

SHAPES OF DOOM

LEGENDS AND BALLADS OF THE DEAD

THE HAUNTED HOUR

THE FAR AWAY COUNTRY

NORA HOPPER CHESSON

"THE NICHT ATWEEN THE SANCTS AN' SOULS"

ALL-SOULS: KATHERINE TYNAN

The door of Heaven is on the latch To-night, and many a one is fain To go home for one night's watch With his love again.

Oh, where the father and mother sit There's a drift of dead leaves at the door Like pitter-patter of little feet That come no more.

Their thoughts are in the night and cold, Their tears are heavier than the clay, But who is this at the threshold So young and gay?

They are come from the land o' the young, They have forgotten how to weep; Words of comfort on the tongue, And a kiss to keep.

They sit down and they stay awhile, Kisses and comfort none shall lack; At morn they steal forth with a smile And a long look back.

ALL-SAINTS' EVE: LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE

Oh, when the ghosts go by, Under the empty trees, Here in my house I sit and cry, My head upon my knees!

Innumerable, white, Like mist they fill the square; The bolt is drawn, the latch made tight, The shutter barr?d there.

There walks one small and glad, New to the churchyard clod; My little lad, my little lad, A single year with God!

I sit and hide my head Until they all are past, Under the empty trees the dead That go full soft and fast.

Up to my chamber dim, Back to my bed I plod; Oh, would I were a ghost with him, And faring back to God!

A DREAM: WILLIAM ALLINGHAM

I heard the dogs howl in the moonlight night; I went to the window to see the sight; All the dead that ever I knew Going one by one and two by two.

On they pass'd and on they pass'd; Townsfellows all, from first to last; Born in the moonlight of the lane, Quench'd in the heavy shadow again.

Schoolmates, marching as when they play'd At soldiers once--but now more staid; Those were the strangest sight to me Who were drown'd, I knew, in the open sea.

Straight and handsome folk, bent and weak, too; Some that I loved, and gasp'd to speak to; Some but a day in their churchyard bed; Some that I had not known were dead.

A long long crowd--where each seem'd lonely, Yet of them all there was one, one only, Raised a head or looked my way; She linger'd a moment--she might not stay.

How long since I saw that fair pale face! Ah! Mother dear! might I only place My head on thy breast, a moment to rest, While thy hand on my tearful cheek were press'd!

On, on, a moving bridge they made Across the moon-stream, from shade to shade, Young and old, women and men; Many long-forgot, but remember'd then,

And first there came a bitter laughter; A sound of tears a moment after, And then a music so lofty and gay, That every morning, day by day, I strive to recall it if I may.

THE NEIGHBORS: THEODOSIA GARRISON

Against the distant striking of the clock I heard the crowing cock, And I arose and threw the window wide; Long, long before the setting of the moon, And yet I knew they must be passing soon-- My neighbors who had died-- Back to their narrow green-roofed homes that wait Beyond the churchyard gate.

I leaned far out and waited--all the world Was like a thing impearled, Mysterious and beautiful and still: The crooked road seemed one the moon might lay, Our little village slept in Quaker gray, And gray and tall the poplars on the hill; And then far off I heard the cock--and then My neighbors passed again.

At first it seemed a white cloud, nothing more, Slow drifting by my door, Or gardened lilies swaying in the wind; Then suddenly each separate face I knew, The tender lovers drifting two and two, Old, peaceful folk long since passed out of mind, And little children--one whose hand held still An earth-grown daffodil.

And here I saw one pausing for a space To lift a wistful face Up to a certain window where there dreamed A little brood left motherless; and there One turned to where the unploughed fields lay bare; And others lingering passed--but one there seemed So over glad to haste, she scarce could wait To reach the churchyard gate!

The farrier's little maid who loved too well And died--I may not tell How glad she seemed. My neighbors, young and old, With backward glances lingered as they went; Only upon one face was all content, A sorrow comforted--a peace untold. I watched them through the swinging gate--the dawn Stayed till the last had gone.

A BALLAD OF HALLOWE'EN: THEODOSIA GARRISON

Mignon Isa hath left her bed And bared her shoulders to the blast; The long procession of the dead Stared at her as it passed.

"Oh, there, methinks, my mother smiled, And there my father walks forlorn, And there the little nameless child That was the parish scorn.

"And there my olden comrades move, And there my sister smiles apart, But nowhere is the fair, false love That bent and broke my heart.

"Oh, false in life, oh, false in death, Wherever thy mad spirit be, Could it not come this night," she saith, "And keep tryst with me?"

Mignon Isa has turned alone, Bitter the pain and long the years; The moonlight on the old gravestone Was warmer than her tears.

THE FORGOTTEN SOUL: MARGARET WIDDEMER

'Twas I that cried against the pane on All Souls' Night You filled the room I knew with yellow candlelight And cheered the lass beside you when she cried in fear.

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