The Haunted Hour eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 165 pages of information about The Haunted Hour.

The Haunted Hour eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 165 pages of information about The Haunted Hour.

LEGENDS AND BALLADS OF THE DEAD

The Folk of the Air William Butler Yeats 199
The Reconciliation A.  Margaret Ramsay 201
The Priest’s Brother Dora Sigerson Shorter 203
The Ballad of Judas
  Iscariot Robert Buchanan 205
The Eve of St. John Walter Scott 212
Fair Margaret’s Misfortunes Anon. 220
Sweet William’s Ghost Anon. 222
Clerk Saunders Anon. 224
The Wife of Usher’s Well Anon. 229
A Lyke-Wake Dirge Anon. 231

THE HAUNTED HOUR

THE FAR AWAY COUNTRY

NORA HOPPER CHESSON

Far away’s the country where I desire to go, Far away’s the country where the blue roses grow, Far away’s the country and very far away, And who would travel thither must go ’twixt night and day.

Far away’s the country, and the seas are wild That you must voyage over, grown man or chrisom child, O’er leagues of land and water a weary way you’ll go Before you’ll find the country where the blue roses grow.

But O, and O, the roses are very strange and fair, You’d travel far to see them, and one might die to wear, Yet, far away’s the country, and perilous the sea, And some may think far fairer the red rose on her tree.

Far away’s the country, and strange the way to fare, Far away’s the country—­O would that I were there! It’s on and on past Whinny Muir and over Brig o’ Dread. And you shall pluck blue roses the day that you are dead.

“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

Copyrights
Project Gutenberg
The Haunted Hour from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.