THE SONG OF THE WITCHES ROUND THE WALNUT-TREE OF BENEVENTUM

An old poem that appeared in: BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY. VOL. XVII. (1845).

Shared by Raven Grimassi. Thanks Raven.

 

Hail to thee,
Weird walnut-tree!
All hail to thee ! all hail to thee !
We are come, we are come, we are come from afar,
By the glancing light of the shooting-star ;
Some from the south, and some from the north,
From the east, and the west, we are all come forth,—
Some o'er the land, and some o'er the sea.
To hold our sabbath 'neath the weird walnut-tree,
That tree of the awful and mystic spell,
Where we dance the roundels we love so well.
The gentle witch of Capua, who comes of a gentle kind,
Hath floated softly hither on the wings of the western wind ;
The gentle witch, whose witcheries the Capuan youth beguile,
With her arching brows, and her cherry lips, and'her everchanging smile :
But, though beauteous, and fair, and gentle she be,
She must come and bend to the weird walnut-tree.
And Medea is here from her Colchian home,
A dragon she rides through the white sea-foam.
Look at her eye with its cold blue glare ;
As lief rouse a lioness from her lair.
But, though murd'ress and fratricide she may be,
She must come and bend to the weird walnut-tree.
And who is the seer with the locks so white,
The wrinkled brow, and the eye so bright?

His tottering limbs have been hither borne
By a magic staff of the wild blackthorn,
And from Vetulonia'a halls wends he,
To come and bend to the weird walnut-tree.
Perimeda is here, with the golden hair,
Beauteous, and blooming, and buoyant, and fair;
She has come in a car drawn by peacocks three,
To bend at the shrme of the weird walnut-tree.
And the fairy Calypso has sped from her home ;

She has left her grotto and hyacinth flowers,—
Her fruit-trees, and birds that sing all the day long,—

Her gardens, and violet-scented bowers ;
In a nautilus-shell, so pearly and clear,

She has sailed from her isle in the Grecian Sea,
To join in our mystic roundels here,

And bend to the wondrous walnut-tree.
Hecate, hail! Hecate, hail!
Far hast thou travell'd o'er hill and dale;
By the dead man's tomb thou hast stopped to alight,
Where the Lemures gibber the livelong night,
And the ghoules eat the corpse by the wan moonlight,
For such arc the scenes where thou takest delight.
Hail to thee, Hecate, once and twice!
And hail to thee, Hecate ; hail to thee thrice!
The Queen of Hades' realm is here,
Bow to her, wizard, and witch, and seer!
But, though the Queen of Hades she be,
She must come and bend to the weird walnut-tree.
And Gerda has hurried from far Iceland,
She of the ruthless and red right-hand ;
A kraken has carried her o'er the sea,
To come and bend to the weird walnut.tree.
We are come, we are come, we are come from afar,
By the glancing light of the shooting star ;
Some from the south, and some from the north,
From the east and the west we are all come forth ,
Some o'er the land, and some o'er the sea,
To hold our sabbath 'neath the weird walnut-tree.
Then a song to the tree, the weird walnut-tree;
The king and the chief of trees is he ;
For, though ragged, and gnarl'd, and wither'd, and bare,
We bow the knee, and we offer the prayer
To the weird walnut-tree on the mystic night,
When we hold our sabbath 'neath the pale moonlight.
Hail to Taburnus. that mount of power,
And to Sabatus' stream in this witching hour !
And hail to the serpent who twines round the tree,
Whose age is known but to wizards three,
Who was brought from the land of ice and snow
By Saturn, in ages long, long ago,
And who sucks the blood of one of our band,
Whene'er 'neath the tree we take our stand.
Hail to them each, and hail to them all <.
Ho ! come with a whoop, and a shout, and a call!
Join hand in hand, and foot it full free,
Let us bound and dance round the walnut-tree.
Elelen ! Elelen ! Evoe ! Evoe !
For the witches who leap round the weird walnut-tree.

C. H. L.

Ancient Culture

I know it looks modern.... but the video is anything but...... just listen