FullReads

NOTE:
132 shattered]scattered Rossetti.

CHORUS OF WITCHES:
The stubble is yellow, the corn is green,
Now to the Brocken the witches go;
The mighty multitude here may be seen
Gathering, wizard and witch, below.
Sir Urian is sitting aloft in the air; 150
Hey over stock! and hey over stone!
‘Twixt witches and incubi, what shall be done?
Tell it who dare! tell it who dare!

NOTE:
150 Urian]Urean editions 1824, 1839.

A VOICE:
Upon a sow-swine, whose farrows were nine,
Old Baubo rideth alone. 155

CHORUS:
Honour her, to whom honour is due,
Old mother Baubo, honour to you!
An able sow, with old Baubo upon her,
Is worthy of glory, and worthy of honour!
The legion of witches is coming behind, 160
Darkening the night, and outspeeding the wind–

A VOICE:
Which way comest thou?

A VOICE:
Over Ilsenstein;
The owl was awake in the white moonshine;
I saw her at rest in her downy nest,
And she stared at me with her broad, bright eyne. 165

NOTE:
165 eyne 1839, 2nd edition; eye 1822, 1824, 1839, 1st edition.

VOICES:
And you may now as well take your course on to Hell,
Since you ride by so fast on the headlong blast.

A VOICE:
She dropped poison upon me as I passed.
Here are the wounds–

CHORUS OF WITCHES:
Come away! come along!
The way is wide, the way is long, 170
But what is that for a Bedlam throng?
Stick with the prong, and scratch with the broom.
The child in the cradle lies strangled at home,
And the mother is clapping her hands.–

SEMICHORUS OF WIZARDS 1:
We glide in
Like snails when the women are all away; 175
And from a house once given over to sin
Woman has a thousand steps to stray.

SEMICHORUS 2:
A thousand steps must a woman take,
Where a man but a single spring will make.

VOICES ABOVE:
Come with us, come with us, from Felsensee. 180

NOTE:
180 Felsensee 1862 (“Relics of Shelley”, page 96);
Felumee 1822; Felunsee editions 1824, 1839.

VOICES BELOW:
With what joy would we fly through the upper sky!
We are washed, we are ‘nointed, stark naked are we;
But our toil and our pain are forever in vain.

NOTE:
183 are editions 1839; is 1822, 1824.

BOTH CHORUSES:
The wind is still, the stars are fled, 185
The melancholy moon is dead;
The magic notes, like spark on spark,
Drizzle, whistling through the dark. Come away!

VOICES BELOW:
Stay, Oh, stay!

VOICES ABOVE:
Out of the crannies of the rocks 190
Who calls?

VOICES BELOW:
Oh, let me join your flocks!
I, three hundred years have striven
To catch your skirt and mount to Heaven,–
And still in vain. Oh, might I be
With company akin to me! 195

BOTH CHORUSES:
Some on a ram and some on a prong,
On poles and on broomsticks we flutter along;
Forlorn is the wight who can rise not to-night.