On rolling breast, black eyes and tossing hair,
On old bald-headed witches, lean and bare.
28
“They beat the devilish tom-tom rub-a-dub;
Lunging, leaping, in unwieldy romp,
Singing Cotytto and Beelzebub,
With devil dancers mask and phallic pomp,
Torn raw with briers and caked from many a swamp
They came, among the wild flowers dripping blood
And churning the green mosses into mud.