The Old Witch in the Copse

Barry Cornwall

1787 to 1874

Poem Image
Track 1

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Every 10th word

I am a Witch, and a kind old Witch,
There's many a one knows that—
Alone I live in little dark house
With Pillycock, my cat.
A girl running through the night,
When all the winds blew free—
"O mother, change a young man's heart
That will look on me.
O mother, brew a magic mead
stir his heart so cold."
"Just as you will, my dear," said I;
"And I thank you your gold."
So here am I in the copse
Where all the twigs are brown,
To find I need to brew my mead
As the dark night comes down.
Primroses in my old hands,
Sweet smell and young,
And violets blue that spring in grass
Wherever the larks have sung.
With celandines as crowns
Yellowy-gold and bright; All of these,
O all these,
Shall bring her Love's delight.
But orchids growing green
Speckled dark with blood,
And fallen leaves that and shrank
And rotted in the mud,
With blistering burning harsh
And blinding thorns above;
All of these, all of these
Shall bring the pains of Love.
bring the pains of Love, my Puss,
That cease night or day,
The bitter rage, nought can assuage
it bleeds the heart away.
Pillycock mine, my hands full
My pot is on the fire.
Purr, my pet, this fool shall get
Her fool's desire.