The Witch.
She gropes and hobbies, where the dropsied rocks Are hairy with the lichens and the twist Of knotted wolf's-bane, mumbling in the mist, Hawk-nosed and wrinkle-eyed with scrawny locks. At her bent back the sick-faced moonlight mocks, Like some lewd evil whom the Fiend hath kissed; Thrice at her feet the slipping serpent hissed, And thrice the owl called to the forest fox. What sabboth brew dost now intend? What root Dost seek for, seal for what satanic spell Of incantations and demoniac fire? From thy rude hut, hill-huddled in the brier, What dark familiar points thy sure pursuit, With burning eyes, gaunt with the glow of Hell?
AI analysis available. Enable JavaScript to interact.
About this line
"She gropes and hobbies, where the dropsied rocks..."
"The Witch." is a quintessential example of Madison Julius Cawein's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...