On Hallow-Mass Eve, ere yon boune ye to rest, br Ever beware that your couch be bless'd; br Sign it with cross, and sain it with bead, br Sing the Ave, and say the Creed. br br For on Hollow-Mass Eve the Night-Hag will ride, br And all her nine-fold sweeping on by her side. br Whether the wind sing lowly or loud, br Sailing through moonshine or swath'd in the cloud. br br The Lady she sate in St. Swithin's Chair, br The dew of the night has damped her hair: br Her cheek was pale - but resolved and high br Was the word of her lip and the glance of her eye. br br She mutter'd the spell of Swithin bold, br When his naked foot traced the midnight wold, br When he stopp'd the Hag as she rode the night, br And bade her descend, and her promise plight. br br He that dare sit on St. Swithin's Chair, br When the Night-Hag wings the troubled air, br Questions three, when he speaks the spell, br He may ask, and she must tell. br br The Baron has been with King Robert his liege, br These three long years in battle and siege; br News are there none of his weal or his woe, br And fain the Lady his fate would know.