A Graveyard Rabbit in Southeast Missouri: "For in That Sleep of Death, What Dreams May Come..."

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The Graveyard Rabbit

In the white moonlight, where the willow waves,
He halfway gallops among the graves—A tiny ghost in the gloom and gleam,
Content to dwell where the dead men dream,
But wary still!
For they plot him ill;
For the graveyard rabbit hath a charm
(May God defend us!) to shield from harm.

Over the shimmering slabs he goes—Every grave in the dark he knows;
But his nest is hidden from human eye
Where headstones broken on old graves lie.
Wary still!
For they plot him ill;
For the graveyard rabbit, though sceptics scoff,
Charmeth the witch and the wizard off!

The old man creeps, when the night is dim,
Fearful, still, on the track of him;
Or fleetly follows the way he runs,
For he heals the hurts of the conjured ones.
Wary still!
For they plot him ill;
The soul’s bewitched that would find release,
To the graveyard rabbit go for peace!

He holds their secret—he brings a boon
Where winds moan wild in the dark o’ the moon;
And gold shall glitter and love smile sweet
To whoever shall sever his furry feet!
Wary still!
For they plot him ill;
For the graveyard rabbit hath a charm
(May God defend us!) to shield from harm.

Frank Lebby Stanton

Saturday, March 29, 2014

"For in That Sleep of Death, What Dreams May Come..."

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