The Banshee

Jim Perkins ©1981

 

When the Banshee wails over a village at midnight,

surely someone will be after passin' by morn.

It's no use to deny if you've heard the sad cry

for a soul will be flyin' as sure as you're born.

Last evening I strayed o'er wild moor and sweet meadow, I chanced by the barrows as the sun it sank low,

and takin' no heed of the old biddy's stories, as the mist rose around through the down I did go.

At first me steps lively did carry me whistlin' a frolicksome jig for to keep me head high,

but I stopped- and the hairs on me neck took to pricklin' when from over me shoulder there came a strange cry.

I spun on me heels, me shillelagh was flyin'. It cut through the fog like an old Norman blade,

"Come Devil" says I, though me heart was a sighin'."Let's see if a dent in your scull can be made"

Then me arm it turned icy right up to me shoulder, me blackthorn fell useless from me paralized paw,

so I lunged at the spot where the cold mist seemed colder and tackled the first ugly thing that I saw.

I ne'r saw her face, just her two eyes a blazin' Her breath was so rank that it stole mine away,

She grabbed for me throat as together we stumbled, then the monster and I both fell back on the clay.

She howled and spit as we wrestled together, clutched and bit and clawed at me face,

for hours we struggled, then dawn kissed the heather, then she hissed at the sunlight and vanished in space.

Though I'm but a young man of twenty three summers, me eyes they are old and me hair has turned white,

In our village today there is no cause for weepin' for I kept the old banshee busy last night!

When the Banshee wails over a village at midnight

surely someone will be after passin' by morn

It's no use to deny if you've heard the sad cry,

for a soul will be flyin' as sure as your born...