As I walked out on Hallows' E'en, I saw the moon swing thin and green; I saw beside, in Fiddler's Wynd, Two hands that moved upon a blind. As I walked out on Martin's Feast, I heard a woman say to a priest— 'His grave is digged, his shroud is sewn; And the child shall pass for his very own.' But whiles they stood beside his tomb, I heard the babe laugh out in her womb— 'My hair will be black as his was red, And I have a mole where his heart bled.' | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SUN-DAY HYMN [OR LAMENT] by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES LEE TO THE REAR [MAY 12, 1864] by JOHN REUBEN THOMPSON THE MORAL FABLES: THE TALE OF THE TWO MICE by AESOP MYRRHA by VITTORIO AMEDEO ALFIERI THE ELF CHILD by GEORGE LAWRENCE ANDREWS A VOYAGE TO CYTHERA by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE INSCRIPTION IN NETHER STOREY CHURCH IN MEMORY OF RICHARD CAMPLIN by WILLIAM LISLE BOWLES |