[Peter Chipman]

If anyone has access to the Robert Francis poem "Hide and Seek"--the one about children playing n a graveyard--this would be an excellent thread in which to post it. My book is at home.

[Howard]

Two by Elinor Wylie:


"Atavism"

I WAS always afraid of Somes's Pond:
Not the little pond, by which the willow stands,
Where laughing boys catch alewives in their hands
In brown, bright shallows; but the one beyond.
There, where the frost makes all the birches burn
Yellow as cow-lilies, and the pale sky shines
Like a polished shell between black spruce and pines,
Some strange thing tracks us, turning where we turn.

You'll say I dreamed it, being the true daughter
Of those who in old times endured this dread.
Look! Where the lily-stems are showing red
A silent paddle moves below the water,
A sliding shape has stirred them like a breath;
Tall plumes surmount a painted mask of death.

* * *

"Madman's Song"

BETTER to see your cheek grown hollow,
Better to see your temple worn,
Than to forget to follow, follow,
After the sound of a silver horn.

Better to bind your brow with willow
And follow, follow until you die,
Than to sleep with your head on a golden pillow,
Nor lift it up when the hunt goes by.

Better to see your cheek grow sallow
And your hair grown gray, so soon, so soon,
Than to forget to hallo, hallo,
After the milk-white hounds of the moon.

[nyctom]

Yeah, but you still haven't told us about your costume!

(I'm going to a Halloween party and haven't come up with one yet, so I'm looking for ideas...)

[Gregory Dowling]

Thomas Hood:

Mary's Ghost

'Twas in the middle of the night,
To sleep young William tried,
When Mary´s ghost came stealing in,
And stood at his bed-side.

'O William dear! O William dear!
My rest eternal ceases;
Alas! my everlasting peace
Is broken into pieces.

I thought the last of all my cares
Would end with my last minute;
But tho´ I went to my long home
I didn´t stay long in it.

The body-snatchers they have come,
And made a snatch at me;
It´s very hard them kind of men
Won´t let a body be!

You thought that I was buried deep
Quite decent like and chary,
But from her grave in Mary-bone
They´ve come and boned your Mary.

The arm that used to take your arm
Is took to Dr. Vyse;
And both my legs are gone to walk
The hospital at Guy´s.

I vow´d that you should have my hand,
But fate gives us denial;
You´ll find it there, at Dr. Bell´s
In spirits and a phial.

As for my feet, the little feet
You used to call so pretty,
There´s one, I know, in Bedford Row,
The t´other´s in the city.

I can´t tell where my head is gone,
But Doctor Carpue can:
As for my trunk, it´s all pack´d up
To go by Pickford´s van.

I wished you´d go to Mr. P.
And save me such a ride;
I don´t half like the outside place,
They´ve took for my inside.

The cock it crows - I must begone!
My William we must part!
But I´ll be yours in death, altho´
Sir Astley has my heart.

Don´t go to weep upon my grave,
And think that there I be;
They haven´t left an atom there
Of my anatomie.'

[Chris Childers]

I'm The Tick. See http://www.thetick.ws/photos.html

It's only a blue nylon suit sewn by a college roommate's girlfriend & a blue hat thing with pipe cleaner antennae, but every time I've ever worn it people have cracked up. Wearing it to class is particularly funny, to the kids at least.

Chris

[Roger Slater]

PARTY

I dressed up as a goblin,
but no one was afraid.
I tried to scare my friends away,
but everybody stayed.

I dressed up as a wicked witch,
with pointy hat and broom.
I cackled bloody murder,
but no one left the room.

I dressed up as a pirate
and waved my bloody hook.
I thought my friends would tremble,
but not one of them shook.

I guess I'm not that fearsome,
not frightening or mean.
Or maybe my friends were just confused.
It wasn't Halloween.

[Jim Hayes]

Bob, that's excellent.

[Mark Blaeuer]

Here's the one Peter referred to.

Hide-and-Seek

Here where the dead lie hidden
Too well ever to speak,
Three children unforbidden
Are playing hide-and-seek.

What if for such a hiding
These stones were not designed?
The dead are far from chiding;
The living need not mind.

Too soon the stones that hid them
Anonymously in play
Will learn their names and bid them
Come back to hide to stay.

[nyctom]

The Tick...I shoulda known!

[Michael Cantor]

But if it's not well appreciated, you'll be a Ticking bomb.