She heard the laughter from the house, she heard the fiddle played;
She called her dead love to her side—­why should she be afraid? 
She took his cold hands in her own, she had no thought of dread,
And not a star looked out to watch the living kiss the dead.

The lads are gaming with the girls, and laughing by the fire. 
But Mollie in the cold, dark night, has found her heart’s desire.

ON KINGSTON BRIDGE:  ELLEN M.H.  CORTISSOZ

(On All Souls’ Night the dead walk on Kingston
Bridge.—­Old Legend.)

On Kingston Bridge the starlight shone
  Through hurrying mists in shrouded glow;
The boding night-wind made its moan,
  The mighty river crept below. 
  ‘Twas All Souls’ Night, and to and fro
The quick and dead together walked,
The quick and dead together talked,
      On Kingston Bridge.

Two met who had not met for years;
Once was their hate too deep for fears: 
One drew his rapier as he came,
Upleapt his anger like a flame. 
With clash of mail he faced his foe,
And bade him stand and meet him so. 
He felt a graveyard wind go by
Cold, cold as was his enemy. 
  A stony horror held him fast. 
The Dead looked with a ghastly stare,
  And sighed “I know thee not,” and passed
Like to the mist, and left him there
        On Kingston Bridge.

‘Twas All Souls’ Night, and to and fro
The quick and dead together walked,
The quick and dead together talked,
        On Kingston Bridge.

Two met who had not met for years: 
With grief that was too deep for tears
        They parted last. 
He clasped her hand, and in her eyes
He sought Love’s rapturous surprise. 
“Oh, Sweet!” he cried, “hast thou come back
To say thou lov’st thy lover still?”
—­Into the starlight, pale and cold,
She gazed afar—­her hand was chill: 
“Dost thou remember how we kept
Our ardent vigils?—­how we kissed?—­
Take thou these kisses as of old!”
  An icy wind about him swept;
“I know thee not,” she sighed, and passed
  Into the dim and shrouding mist
        On Kingston Bridge.

‘Twas All Souls’ Night, and to and fro
The quick and dead together walked,
The quick and dead together talked,
        On Kingston Bridge.

ALL SOULS’ NIGHT:  LOUISA HUMPHREYS

Canice the priest went out on the Night of Souls;
  “Stay, oh stay,” said the woman who served his board
“Stay, for the path is strait with pits and holes,
  And the night is dark and the way is lone abroad;
Stay within because it is lone, at least.” 
“Nay, it will not be lone,” said Canice the priest.

Dim without, and a dim, low-sweeping sky;
  A scent of earth in the night, of opened mould;
A listening pause in the night—­and a breath passed by—­
  And its touch was cold, was cold as the graves are cold
Canice went on to the waste where no men be;
“Nay, I will not be lone to-night,” said he.