The Gallows

ALL-SOULS' NIGHT

by 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.