I SAW THREE WITCHES by Walter de la Mare
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| I SAW THREE WITCHES | |
| I saw three witches That bowed down like barley, And took to their brooms 'neath a louring sky, And, mounting a storm-cloud, Aloft on its margin, Stood black in the silver as up they did fly. I saw three witches That mocked the poor sparrows They carried in cages of wicker along, Till a hawk from his eyrie Swooped down like an arrow, And smote on the cages, and ended their song. I saw three witches That sailed in a shallop, All turning their heads with a truculent smile, Till a bank of green osiers Concealed their grim faces, Though I heard them lamenting for many a mile. I saw three witches Asleep in a valley, Their heads in a row, like stones in a flood, Till the moon, creeping upward, Looked white through the valley, And turned them to bushes in bright scarlet bud. |
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| Walter de la Mare, | |
