On Hallowe’en the old ghosts come

About us, and they speak to some;

To others they are dumb.


They haunt the hearts that love them best;

In some they are by grief possessed,

In other hearts they rest.


They have a knowledge they would tell;

To some of us it is a knell,

To some a miracle.


They come unseen, they go unseen;

And some will never know they’ve been,

And some know all they mean.


“The New Book of Days” by Eleanor Farjeon