The stubble is yellow, the corn is green;
A merry crew to a merry scene,
And good Sir Urian is the guide.[n10]
Over stock and stone we float,
Wrinkled hag and rank old goat.
A Voice.
Old mother Baubo comes up now,
Alone, and riding on a sow.
Chorus.
Honor to him to whom honor is due!
Lady Baubo heads the crew!
On the back of a sow, with the wings of the wind,
And all the host of witches behind.
A Voice.
Sister, which way came you?
A Voice.
By Ilsenstein! and I looked into
An owlet’s nest, as on I fared,
That with its two eyes broadly stared!
A Voice.
The deuce! at what a devil’s pace
You go; this march is not a race.
A Voice.
It tore me, it flayed me!
These red wounds it made me!
Witches. [in chorus]
The road is broad, the road is long,
Why crowd you so on one another?
Scrapes the besom, pricks the prong,
Chokes the child, and bursts the mother.
Wizards. [semi-chorus]
We trail us on, like very snails,
The women fly with flaunting sails;
For, when we run Squire Satan’s races,
They always win by a thousand paces.
Semi-Chorus.
Not quite so bad: the women need
A thousand paces to help their speed;
But let them speed what most they can,
With one spring comes up the man.
Voice. [from above]
Come up! come up from the lake with me.
Voices. [from below]
Right gladly would we mount with thee;
We wash, and wash, and cease from washing never;
Our skins are as white as white can be,
But we are as dry and barren as ever.
Both Choruses.
The wind is hushed, the stars take flight,
The sullen moon hath veiled her light,
