Hey there.
What's up?
At first cock-crow the ghosts must go
Back to their quiet graves below.
Shadows of a thousand years rise again unseen,
Voices whisper in the trees,
Hark! Hark to the wind! 'Tis the night, they say,
When all souls come back from the far away-
The dead, forgotten this many a day!
Pixie, kobold, elf, and sprite,
All are on their rounds tonight;
In the wan moon's silver ray,
Thrives their helter-skelter play.


