Page:Book Of Halloween(1919).djvu/205

Rh 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.

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.

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. in Harpers's Weekly, Nov. 5, 1910.