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Myra's Well
A Tale of All-Hallow-E'en
Myra's Well
A Tale of All-Hallow-E'en
Myra's Well
A Tale of All-Hallow-E'en
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Myra's Well A Tale of All-Hallow-E'en

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Release dateNov 26, 2013
Myra's Well
A Tale of All-Hallow-E'en

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    Myra's Well A Tale of All-Hallow-E'en - George Francis Dawson

    The Project Gutenberg EBook of Myra's Well, by George Francis Dawson

    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

    almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

    re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

    with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

    Title: Myra's Well

    A Tale of All-Hallow-E'en

    Author: George Francis Dawson

    Release Date: February 26, 2011 [EBook #35411]

    Language: English

    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MYRA'S WELL ***

    Produced by Heather Clark, Carla Foust, and the Online

    Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This

    file was produced from images generously made available

    by The Internet Archive)

    MYRA'S WELL.

    A TALE

    OF

    ALL-HALLOW-E'EN,

    BY

    GEORGE FRANCIS DAWSON.

    WASHINGTON:

    GIBSON BROS., PRINTERS

    1883.


    Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883,

    By George Francis Dawson

    ,

    in the office of the Librarian of Congress, Washington, D. C.


    It is the night of all nights of the year,

    When ghosts and warlocks haunt the troubled earth,

    And disembodied spirits visit us—

    Spirits of good and evil from the dead,

    Fresh from the angel hosts and from the damned,

    And from the vast profound betwixt the two;

    Spirits from living bodies, disenthralled

    By blesséd sleep, or yearnings most intense,

    Or by more subtle agencies beyond our ken—

    Bearing portentious messages to those

    Who in full faith the future would behold.

    The clear-cut radiance of a frosty moon

    Lights up, and darkens, all the growth around.

    The great trees stand out black against the stars.

    The wind in gusts bestirs the Autumn leaves,

    Whose late October tints are lost in gloom,

    Or are grown pallid with their shivering;

    Whose fitful rustlings are the only sounds

    Which break the dead cold silence of the night.

    Yet hist! faint eerie tones are sometimes heard—

    Which blanch the cheek and palsy all the limbs—

    Like to the moaning of departed souls!

    Within the farm-house is a large high room

    Unceiled, but studded thick with rafters old,

    Grown black with age or smoke; around its walls

    Stiff hams and bacon-flitches dimly seen;

    And here

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