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THE WITCH IN THE GRAVEYARD
That westers hour by hour on tomb and stone;And shrivelled lilies, tossed i' the winter's breath,With their attenuate shadows, as might dancePhantom with flaffing phantom; at my side,The white and shuddering grasses of the grave.With nettles, and the parching fumitory,Whose leaves, root-trellised on the bones of death,Will rasp and bristle to the lightest wind.(The first witch moves on, and approaches again, after a long interval.)
FIRST WITCH:Sister, what seest or what hearest thou?
SECOND WITCH:I seeThe mound-stretched gossamers, cradles to the dew;Moon-wefted briers, and the cypress-treesWith shadow swathed, or cerements of the moon;And corpse-lights borne from aisle to secret aisleWithin the footless forest.***Now I hearThe lich-owl, shrieking lethal prophecy;And whimpering winds, the children of the air,Lost in the glades of mystery and gloom.(The first witch disappears and passes again shortly.)
FIRST WITCH:Sister, what seest or what hearest thou?
SECOND WITCH:I seeThe ghost-white owl, with huge sulphureous eyes,That veers in prone, unwhispered flight, and hearThe small shriek of the moon-adventuring mole.Gripped in mid-graveyard.*** And I seeWhere some wild shadow shakes, though the pale windOf moonlight stirs far off*** and hearCurst mandragores that gibber to the moon,Though no man treads anigh.***
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