Sometimes in dismal caves we lie, Or in the air aloft we flie; Sometimes we caper o'er the main, Thunders and lightnings we disdain; Sometimes we tumble churches down, And level castles with the ground; We fire whole cities, and destroy Whole armies, if they us annoy. We strangle infants in the womb, And raise the dead out of their tomb; We haunt the palaces of kings, And play such pranks and pretty things And this is all our chief delight, To do all mischief in despight; And when we've done, to shift away, Untoucht, unseen, by night or day. When imps do * * * We make them act unlucky feats; In puppets' wax, sharp needles' points We stick, to torture limbs and joints. With frogs' and toads' most poys'nous gore Our grizly limbs we 'noint all o'er, And straight away, away we go, Sparing no mortal, friend or foe. We'll sell you winds, and ev'ry charm Or venomous drug that may do harm; For beasts or fowls we have our spells Laid up in store in our dark cells; For there the devils used to meet, And dance with horns and cloven feet; And when we've done, we frisk about, And through the world play revel-rout. We ride on cows' and horses' backs, O'er lakes and rivers play nice knacks; We grasp the moon and scale the sun, And stop the planets as they run. We kindle comets' whizzing flames, And whistle for the winds by names; And for our pastimes and mad freaks, 'Mongst stars we play at barley-breaks.[127] We are ambassadors of state, And know the mysteries of fate; In Pluto's bosom there we ly, To learn each mortal's destiny. As oracles their fortunes show, If they be born to wealth or wo, The spinning Sisters' hands we guide, And in all this we take a pride. To Lapland, Finland, we do skice, Sliding on seas and rocks of ice, T' old beldames there, our sisters kind, We do impart our hellish mind; We take their seals and hands in blood For ever to renounce all good. And then, as they in dens do lurk, We set the ugly jades a-work. We know the treasures and the stores Lock'd up in caves with brazen doors; Gold and silver, sparkling stones, We pile on heaps, like dead men's bones. There the devils brood and hover, Keep guards, that none should them discover; Put upon all the coasts of hell, 'Tis we, 'tis we, stand sentinel. SUPERSTITIOUS FEAR OF WITCHCRAFT.