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