A little seasonal sumpin sumpin

[cluegirl.livejournal.com]

The hag is astride
This night for a ride
The devil and she together;
Through thick and through thin,
Now out and then in
Though ne’er so foul be the weather.

A thorn or a burr
She takes for a spur;
With the lash of a bramble she rides now;
Through brakes and through briars,
O’er ditches and mires,
She follows the spirit that guides now.

No beast for his food
Dares now range in the wood
But hushed in his lair he lies lurking;
While mischiefs by these,
On lands and on seas,
At noon of night are aworking.

The storm will arise
And trouble the skies;
This night, and more for the wonder,
The ghost from the tomb
Afrighted shall come,
Called out by the clap of the thunder.


-- Ben Johnson