Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 2.djvu/232

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NATHANIEL.Why he ha'nt been rid again!Last night I hung a pebble by the mangerWith a hole thro', and every body saysThat 'tis a special charm against the hags.FATHER.It could not be a proper natural hole then,Or 'twas not a right pebble,—for I found himSmoking with sweat, quaking in every limb,And panting so! God knows where he had beenWhen we were all asleep, thro' bush and brakeUp-hill and down-hill all alike, full stretchAt such a deadly rate!—NATHANIEL.By land and water,Over the sea perhaps!—I have heard tellThat 'tis some thousand miles, almost at the endOf the world, where witches go to meet the Devil.They used to ride on broomsticks, and to smearSome ointment over them and then away
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