| James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902. | | | | October 31 | | All Souls’ Day | | By Rosamund Marriott Watson (1860–1911) |
| | | TO-DAY is theirs—the unforgotten dead— | |
| For strange and sweet communion set apart, | |
| When the strong, living heart | |
| Beats in the dissolute dust, the darkened bed, | |
| Rebuilds the form beloved, the vanished face, | 5 |
| Relight the blown-out lamps o’ the faded eyes, | |
| Touches the clay-bound lips to tenderest speech, | |
| Saying, “Awake—Arise!” | |
| To-day the warm hands of the living reach | |
| To chafe the cold hands of the long-loved dead; | 10 |
| Once more the lonely head | |
| Leans on a living breast, and feels the rain | |
| Of falling tears, and listens yet again | |
| To the dear voice—the voice that never in vain | |
| Could sound the old behest. | 15 |
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| Each seeks his own to-day; but, ah, not I—I enter not | |
| That sacred shrine beneath the solemn sky; | |
| I claim no commerce with the unforgot. | |
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| My thoughts and prayers must be | |
| Even where mine own fixed lot hereafter lies, | 20 |
| With that great company | |
| For whom no wandering breeze of memory sighs | |
| Through the dim prisons of imperial Death: | |
| They in the black, unfathomed oubliette | |
| For ever and ever set— | 25 |
| They, the poor dead whom none remembered. | | | | |
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