The demons of sea, of field, of flood,
I can run or fly in their forms so foul,
They come at my call from wave or wood.
I know a song that can raise the sea,
Can rouse the winds or shudder the earth,
Can darken the heavens terribly,
Can wake portents at a prince’s birth.
The first dark drug that ever we sipped
Was brewed from toad and the eye of crow,
Slain in a mead when the moon had slipped