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,
And 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!

by John Kendrick Bangs

Comments (2)

Great poem herbert, you bring a calmness with your poetry, i thank you for that A lesson is learning something, well i'v learnt something Thank you Kind regard's AJS
I find this poem very interesting. I wrote a very similar one myself...I'll send it to (in a message) you before I post it. Just so you know I'm not copying... :)