Explore "The Witch" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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?