"To-morrow!" she croaked. "Midnight! Re--member!"
FYTTE 8
Tells how the Witch, with incantations dire,
In life to life brought Robin through the fire.
* * * * *
The wind was cold--indeed 'twas plaguy chill--
That furtive crept and crept, like something ill
Stealing with dreadful purpose in the dark,
With scarce a sound its stealthy course to mark;
While pallid moon did seem to swoon, as though
It ghastly things beheld on earth below;
And Robin gripped the good sword by his side,
And Joc'lyn looked about him watchful-eyed;
While Lobkyn Lollo felt and looked the bolder
By reason of the club across his shoulder.
"Here," whispered Robin, peering through the gloom,
"Is dismal place, I've heard, of death and doom.
Here do be ghosts and goblins, so 'tis said,
Demons, phantoms, spectres of the dead--"
"Aye, verily," quoth Lob, "and what is worse,
'Tis here my grand-dam oft doth come to curse,
And haunteth it with spiteful toads and bats,
With serpents fell, with ewts and clawful cats.
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