Thursday, November 1, 2007

barrow-wight poem

in keeping with my last post on halloween, here is one of my favorite poems to accompany

Cold be hand and heart and bone,
and cold be sleep under stone:
never more to wake on stony bed,
never, til the Sun fails and the Moon is dead.
In the black wind the stars shall die,
and still on gold here let them lie,
till the dark lord lifts his hand
over dead sea and withered land

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