by Ignatius Brennan

To-night's the night the fairies dance;
Hobgoblins strut in classic style;
Weird banschees stoop to do their prance,
Though lying dormant, such a while.
We now keep watch upon the green;
In ghoulish costumes all are seen;
This happy night—“All Halloween.”

Old and young, (no old ones there,
The old are young this special night)
Play every prank—they're all so fair —
To keep the spooks in chill affright.
All cares are tossed to windward—they
Have no place this night to stay
When all's a merry-making way.

We'll make the windows all aglow
In brilliant splendor everywhere;
We'll burn the bonfires high and low,
To show the fairies we are there.
We'll bite the apple on the string;
We'll eat our taffy, nuts, and sing;
We'll make old pumpk' a hideous thing.

And why not celebrate this night?
To-morrow, and the saints are here;
To do them honor with our might
Is why we spend this night in cheer.
Then following the "All Saints" tread,
Next day "All Souls"—our cherished dead
Who ask that goodly prayers be said.

We'll sing the praise of Phocas, he
Who gave to Blessed Boniface
The Pantheon—(when Rome was free)—
To be a Christian playing-place.
We'll ever keep his memory green
And celebrate in proper mien—
He gave us place for Halloween. 

No comments: