Welcome to this week’s edition of Poetic Beats with Howard Bond and Davy D, recorded on the 30th of October 2017 on Red Kite Radio.
On the eve of Halloween, we read and discussed the poem, Spirits of the Dead, by Edgar Allen Poe, as well as delving into the origins of the festival. You will be surprised to hear what Halloween may bring you if you live in Ireland.
If you are having difficulty accessing the recording, a text version of the poem is provided after the sound bar.
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Spirits of the Dead
Thy soul shall find itself alone
’Mid dark thoughts of the gray tombstone—
Not one, of all the crowd, to pry
Into thine hour of secrecy.
Be silent in that solitude,
Which is not loneliness—for then
The spirits of the dead who stood
In life before thee are again
In death around thee—and their will
Shall overshadow thee: be still.
The night, tho’ clear, shall frown—
And the stars shall look not down
From their high thrones in the heaven,
With light like Hope to mortals given—
But their red orbs, without beam,
To thy weariness shall seem
As a burning and a fever
Which would cling to thee for ever.
Now are thoughts thou shalt not banish,
Now are visions ne’er to vanish;
From thy spirit shall they pass
No more—like dew-drop from the grass.
The breeze—the breath of God—is still—
And the mist upon the hill,
Is a symbol and a token—
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries!
Edgar Allan Poe