Girls walk down cellar backward with a candle in one hand and a looking-glass in the other, expecting to see a face in the glass.
"Last night 't was witching Hallowe'en,
Dearest ; an apple russet- brown
I pared, and thrice above my crown
Whirled the long skin; they watched it keen;
I flung it far ; they laughed and cried me shame—
Dearest, there lay the letter of your name.
"Took I the mirror then, and crept
Down, down the creaking narrow stair;
The milk-pans caught my candle's flare
And mice walked soft and spiders slept.
I spoke the spell, and stood the magic space,
Dearest—and in the glass I saw your face!
"And then I stole out in the night
Alone; the frogs piped sweet and loud,
The moon looked through a ragged cloud.
Thrice round the house I sped me light,
Dearest; and there, methought—charm of my charms!
