Love And Black Magic
LOVE AND BLACK MAGIC by ROBERT GRAVES
To the woods, to the woods is the wizard gone; In his grotto the maiden sits alone. She gazes up with a weary smile At the rafter-hanging crocodile, The slowly swinging crocodile. Scorn has she of her master's gear, Cauldron, alembic, crystal sphere, Phial, philtre---'Fiddlededee For all such trumpery trash!' quo' she. 'A soldier is the lad for me; Hey and hither, my lad!
'Oh, here have I ever lain forlorn: My father died ere I was born, Mother was by a wizard wed, And oft I wish I had died instead--- Often I wish I were long time dead. But, delving deep in my master's lore, I have won of magic power such store I can turn a skull---oh, fiddlededee For all this curious craft!' quo' she. 'A soldier is the lad for me; Hey and hither, my lad!
'To bring my brave boy unto my arms, What need have I of magic charms--- Abracadabra! and "Prestopuff"? I have but to wish, and that is enough. The charms are vain, one wish is enough. My master pledged my hand to a wizard; Transformed would I be to toad or lizard If e'er he guessed---but fiddlededee For a black-browed sorcerer, now,' quo' she. 'Let Cupid smile and the fiend must flee; Hey and hither, my lad.'
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|Author||Graves, Robert (1895-1985)|
|Title||Love And Black Magic|
|Item Date||(1995, 1997, 1999)|
|Copyright||The Robert Graves Copyright Trust|
|First line||To the woods, to the woods is the wizard gone|
|Publication source||Robert Graves Complete Poems: Volumes 1 - 3|
|Publication editor||Graves, Beryl and Ward, Dunstan|
|Digital repository||The First World War Poetry Digital Archive|