carried her to the four cross roads,
And there he did set her down.

"Now I see no track of a foot,
I see no mark of a spade,
And I know well in this white road
There never a grave was made."

He took her hand in his right hand,
And he led her to town away,
And there he questioned the old priest,
Did he bury a maid that day.

He took her hand in his right hand,
Down to the church by the lake,
And there he questioned a young priest,
If a maiden her life did take.

But there was no tale of death
In all the parish round,
And neither had heard of a maid
Thus put in unholy ground.

He loosed her hand from his hand,
And turned on his heel away.
"I know you are false," he said,
"From the lie you told today."

And she said, "Oh, what evil things
Did tonight my senses take?"
She knelt down by the water side
And wept as her heart would break.

And she said, "Oh, what fairy sight
Was it thus my grief to see!
I'll sleep well 'neath the still water,
Since my love has turned on me."

* * * * *

And her love he went to the north,
And far to the south went he,
But still he heard her distant voice
Call, weeping so bitterly.

He could not rest in the daytime,
He could not sleep in the night,
Hastened back to the old road,
With the trysting-place in sight.

What first he heard was his love's name,
And keening both loud and long;
What first he saw was his love's face
At the head of a mourning throng.

And white she was as the dead are,
And never a move made she,
But passed him by on her black pall,
Still sleeping so peacefully.

And cold she was as the dead are,
And never a word she spake,
When they said, "Unholy is her grave,
Since she her life did take."

Silent she was, as the dead are,
And never a cry she made
When there came, more sad than the keening,
The ring of a digging spade.

No rest they gave in the town church,
No grave by the lake so sweet,
But buried her in unholy ground,
Where the four cross roads do meet.

THE BANSHEE: DORA SIGERSON SHORTER

God be between us and all harm,
For I to-night have seen
A banshee in the shadow pass
Along the dark boreen.

And as she went she keened and cried,
And combed her long white hair,
She stopped at Molly Reilly's door,
And sobbed till midnight there.

And is it for himself she moans,
Who is so far away?
Or is it Molly Reilly'