tonight / we see that we are echoes / of the peoples / in our past.

Ye hallow'd bells, whose voices thro' the air / The awful summons of affliction bear: / Ye slowly-waving banners of the dead

on All Saints’ Day hard is the grain, / the leaves are dropping, the puddle is full

the last Hallowe'en I was waulkin

Hallowtide Printables

How quiet shews the woodland scene! / Each flower and tree, its duty done