Showing posts with label Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Show all posts

October 31, 2019

All Hallows Eve and Haunted Houses

Image by Shrikesh Kumar from Pixabay
Today is All Hallows’ Eve or as it is more commonly known, Halloween. In modern times, we have adopted a very old tradition of marking the supernatural blending of the world of the living and the world of the dead.

The origins go back to a Celtic holiday called Samhain which marked the start of winter and the end of the harvest, which included the slaughtering of animals for winter food.

The belief was that the coming darkness of winter meant that spirits of the dead could cross over to the world of the living to visit or haunt them.

In the Middle Ages, the Christian church took many pagan holidays and adopted and adapted them to their own purposes to bring pagans into the faith. The day after Halloween became known as All Saints’ or All Hallows’ Day meant to honor Christian saints and martyrs. In the church's version, the dead saints could intercede in a good way in the affairs of the living.

In those earlier days, churches held masses for the dead and put bones of the saints on display on All Saints Day, and the night before was All Hallows’ Eve (not Halloween) and people baked "soul cakes" lit bonfires and set out lanterns carved out of turnips to keep the ghosts of the dead away.


Haunted Houses
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

All houses wherein men have lived and died
Are haunted houses. Through the open doors
The harmless phantoms on their errands glide,
With feet that make no sound upon the floors.

We meet them at the door-way, on the stair,
Along the passages they come and go,
Impalpable impressions on the air,
A sense of something moving to and fro.

There are more guests at table than the hosts
Invited; the illuminated hall
Is thronged with quiet, inoffensive ghosts,
As silent as the pictures on the wall.

The stranger at my fireside cannot see
The forms I see, nor hear the sounds I hear;
He but perceives what is; while unto me
All that has been is visible and clear.
[…]

So from the world of spirits there descends
A bridge of light, connecting it with this,
O’er whose unsteady floor, that sways and bends,
Wander our thoughts above the dark abyss.

excerpted from “Haunted Houses” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Public domain.

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December 17, 2018

Holidays

Holidays
       by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The holiest of all holidays are those
    Kept by ourselves in silence and apart;
    The secret anniversaries of the heart,
    When the full river of feeling overflows;—
The happy days unclouded to their close;
    The sudden joys that out of darkness start
    As flames from ashes; swift desires that dart
    Like swallows singing down each wind that blows!
White as the gleam of a receding sail,
    White as a cloud that floats and fades in air,
    White as the whitest lily on a stream,
These tender memories are;— a Fairy Tale
    Of some enchanted land we know not where,
    But lovely as a landscape in a dream.