The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival With a biographical sketch |
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THE HEXLI. (LITTLE WITCH.) |
The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | ||
THE HEXLI. (LITTLE WITCH.)
“I lauf no alli Dörfer us,
i such und frog vo Hus zu Hus,
und würd mer nit mi Hexli chund,
se würdi ebe nümme g'sund.”—
Hebel.
i such und frog vo Hus zu Hus,
und würd mer nit mi Hexli chund,
se würdi ebe nümme g'sund.”—
“I run through all the villages,
I seek and ask from house to house,
And if I do not find my Hexli,
Then I shall never be well.”
I seek and ask from house to house,
And if I do not find my Hexli,
Then I shall never be well.”
I whittled at a stick one day,—
'T was just to pass the time away:
A little girl came tripping by,
With rosy look and witching eye.
'T was just to pass the time away:
A little girl came tripping by,
With rosy look and witching eye.
With artless smile and simple grace,
She loooked me sweetly in my face,
And said, “That knife is sharp, I ween,—
Another thing will cut as keen.”
She loooked me sweetly in my face,
256
Another thing will cut as keen.”
And then she laughed, and said, “Good-day,”
And like a dream had flown away;
The voice, the look, was with me still,
When all at once I felt me ill.
And like a dream had flown away;
The voice, the look, was with me still,
When all at once I felt me ill.
I could not work, I could not play;
I saw and heard her all the day.
That witching eye was sharp, I ween;
O, that was what would cut so keen.
I saw and heard her all the day.
That witching eye was sharp, I ween;
O, that was what would cut so keen.
I saw and heard her day and night,—
Her voice so soft, her eye so bright:
When others lay in slumber sweet,
I heard the clock each hour repeat
Her voice so soft, her eye so bright:
When others lay in slumber sweet,
I heard the clock each hour repeat
I could not stay and linger so:
Like one entranced, away I go;
Through field and forest, far and wide,
I seek if there the witch doth hide.
Like one entranced, away I go;
Through field and forest, far and wide,
I seek if there the witch doth hide.
By bush and brake, by rock and hill,
Where'er I go, I see her still:
The little girl, with witching eye,
Is ever, ever tripping by.
Where'er I go, I see her still:
The little girl, with witching eye,
Is ever, ever tripping by.
Through town and village, too, I stray;
At every house I call and say,
“O, can you tell me where to find
The little girl that witched my mind?”
At every house I call and say,
“O, can you tell me where to find
The little girl that witched my mind?”
I 've sought her many a weary mile;
Methought I saw her all the while:
Ah! if I can't the witch obtain,
I never shall be well again.
Methought I saw her all the while:
Ah! if I can't the witch obtain,
I never shall be well again.
The Poetical Works of James Gates Percival | ||