The Songs that Quinte Sang/Hallowe’en
Hallowe’en.
As I sit alone by the fire
This quiet Hallowe’en,
My heart revives with the memory
Of a past and happy scene,
How their forms arise before me,
The dear friends of the past,
But how soon the visions vanish,
Too bright by far to last!
I seem to feel their presence
In the swiftly gathering gloom,
And I hear their garments rustle
In the stillness of the room,
And gentle mem’ry rolls away
The years that intervene
Between me and the pleasure
Of that happy Hallowe’en.
A merry, laughing party,
With lips and eyes aglow,
With ringing laugh and merry jest—
What thought had we of woe?
O loved ones dear, since that glad night,
Sad years have come and gone,
And of all the bright and happy group,
I am sitting here alone.
Alone of all that happy group;
Some sleep beneath the ground,
And winter winds sweep o’er their graves
With sad and mournful sound.
And some by happy firesides,
With children, bright and fair,
Encircled by Love’s shelt’ring arms
They know no pain nor care.
And one, ah me, the dearest one
Of all that household band,
Has drained the cup of sorrow
From Fate’s relentless hand.
Better, dear heart, if thou had’st died
In childhood, long ago,
Than live to see thy future marred
By memories of woe.
And as I sit here dreaming,
It seems so long ago,
Like a day of brightest sunshine
Veiled by weary years of woe,
And I bow my head in sorrow
While my soul cries out in pain;
Will those days of peace and gladness
Ne’er come to us again?
Then a voice of silvery music
Comes stealing through the room,
And a presence, sweet and mystic,
Seems to lighten up the gloom,
It lulls my bitter yearnings
Into calm and peaceful rest,
As it bids me not to murmur
For God knows what is best.
It is the lot of mortals
To feel the weight of woe.
If we would wear the crown in heaven
We must bear the cross below.
I know some day we all will meet
Where Sorrow cannot blight,
And in the radiant morning
We’ll forget the darksome night.
And so I sit here dreaming
In the calm and quiet night,
Of the sad, sweet memories of the past
And the future, fair and bright.
Then softly doth Oblivion draw
Her mystic veil between,
And shuts out the haunting memories
Of that happy Hallowe’en.