On Hallow-Mass Eve, ere you boune ye to rest,
Ever beware that your couch be bless’d;
Sign it with cross, and sain it with bead,
Sing the Ave, and say the Creed.
For on Hallow-Mass Eve the Night-Hag will ride,
And all her nine-fold sweeping on by her side,
Whether the wind sing lowly or loud,
Sailing through moonshine or swath’d in the cloud.
The Lady she sate in St. Swithin’s Chair,
The dew of the night has damp’d her hair:
Her cheek was pale—but resolved and high
Was the word of her lip and the glance of her eye.
She mutter’d the spell of Swithin...