The first stage in the process consists in his devouring the cerecloth which enveloped his face; then his moans and muffled howls ring from the tomb, through the gloom of night, the earth of the grave begins to heave, and at last, with a scream, surrounded by a phosphorescent glare, and exhaling a ftid odour, he bursts away as a wolf.
"The Book of Were-Wolves"
Sabine Baring-Gould
Be comforted, old mother, Whose sons have gone to the war; And be assured, O Earth, Of your burden of passionate men, For without them who would dream the dreams That encompass you with glory, Who would gather your youth And store it in the jar of remembrance, Who would comfort your old heart With tales told of the heroes, Who would cover your face with the cerecloth All rustling with stars, And mourn in the ashes of sunlight, Mourn your marmoreal innocency?
"Lundy's Lane and Other Poems"
Duncan Campbell Scott
The sensation stirred by that faintest of odors had been agreeable; there was nothing suggestive of grave-mold or cerecloth about it.
"The Siege of the Seven Suitors"
Meredith Nicholson