Tixall Poetry/The Witches Song

by unknown author

XXIX.

The Witches Song.

 

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Lets have a dance upon this heath,
We gaine more life by Duncans death.
Sometimes like brinded cats we shew,
Having no musicke but our mew;
While we dance in some old mill,
About the hopper stone, or wheele,
To some old saier bardy shrine,
Whilst the mill clacke it doth keepe time.

Sometimes about a hollow tree,
Around, around, around dance we;
Wher the chirping crickets come,
And beetles sing with drousie hum.
Then dance we over feme and furs,
To houles of wolves, and barks of curs:
And when with none of these we meet,
We dance to the ecchos of our feet.

At the night-ravens screeching voice,
When others tremble, we reioice;
And nimbly, nimbly, trip we still,
To the echo of a hollow hill.

 

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