Poems (Katharine Elizabeth Howard)/Will o' the wisp

by Katharine Elizabeth Howard

WILL O THE WISP

Will o' the wisp, thou wicked urchin, thou imp,
Thou hast me lame—a sorry limp—
Thou hast me fagged a-flinging
At thee and thou grinning.
Why wilt thou hop on graves?
Have at thee, thou corpse-light!
What! Where? Hast thou gone from sight?
Hah! Hah! I see thee hip'ty hopping behind the tomb!
Come forth, thou drip of candle-rheum,
Thou lantern winding-sheet!
What sort of dancing is't thou'rt at?
Hey? Trying to make me come a-near?
A bowing, mowing, this way, that—
Thou'rt will o' wisping—that's what thou'rt at,
Trying to make me come a-near—
If I do catch thee it shall cost thee dear.
Bif! Have at thee, manikin!
Sdeath! 'Tis a hollow grave I'm in!
Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Ah! Will o' wisp!