Glosa

Hallows

Hallows

Or, Glosa on The Lyke-Wake Dirge

“This ae night, this ae night,

    Every night and all,

Fire and fleet and candle-light,

    And Christ receive thy soul.”

        - The Lyke-Wake Dirge (Traditional)

The harvest crop is gathered in

and stowed securely in the store,

so carve the lanterns; let their grin

ward evil shadows from our door.

Their teeth are sharp, their brows are knit;

below, their eyes are glowing bright.

The candle deep within is lit,

and shines through where the skin is split.

The wick and wax are burning white,

this ae night, this ae night.

The fall has brought its winds of change;

the day is dwindling in the west.

Now spirits wake, and creatures strange

will stir their bones and break their rest.

They push through sodden soil and reach

for air above; they scratch, they haul,

relentless, ‘til at last they breach

the surface with a ghastly screech.

The shallow graves from which they crawl

lie empty, every night and all.

The dusk is come, a shadow grown

like monstrous limbs from hanging trees.

The road’s no place to roam alone,

for gloaming’s fallen now; it frees

those fiends which have the gallows’ leave

to rise and haunt the depths of night

but once a year, on Hallows’ Eve.

Through lamp-lit streets they softly weave,

each shuffling ghoul and wicked sprite,

by fire and fleet and candle-light.

Throughout the land the spectres creep,

but never where the angels lie;

all saints protect their holy sleep

and sing a wordless lullaby.

At dawn, they spread their wings, and pray

for every life the Devil stole,

then drive the wretched fiends away

to welcome in All-Hallows’ Day.

The bells in church-yards peal and toll,

and Christ receive thy soul.

----------------

Many thanks to Sheepdogowner for recommending Glosa form to me. I like it!

You can listen to a recording of this poem by clicking the 'External Link' on the right.