These dusky evenings in December I do be scared with sudden fright, So many things you'd dis-remember Shows quare an' darkish in the night. Sure kilt you'd be if a dog should bark, Or an old cow wheeze in the lonesome dark; For who can tell who is in it at all, With the Tax man murdered there by the wall, An' the druidy stone foreninst the wood, Where you'd maybe see what isn't good. An' the haunted house. Och! Glory be, There's a power of terrible things you'd see In the dark. I'm feared itself lest some black stranger Would step behind me on the grass; Or goodness knows what sudden danger Might lep upon me as I pass. For strange an' lonesome roads do seem Like a far-off place you'd see in a dream; An' you'd never know who you'd meet at the turn, Old crazy Nelly or mad John Byrne, Or the headless one that wrings her hands, Where the old deserted cabin stands, Or the fairy dog. Och! Glory be, There's a power of terrible things you'd see In the dark.
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- by Winifred Mary Letts (1882 - 1972) [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)
- by Charles Villiers Stanford, Sir (1852 - 1924), "Scared", op. 139 no. 4, published 1913, from A Fire of Turf, no. 4 [sung text checked 1 time]
Researcher for this text: Ted Perry
This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 28
Word count: 185