THE LITTLE CREATURE

Twinkum, twankum, twirlum and twitch My great grandam—She was a Witch. Mouse in wainscot, Saint in niche— My great grandam—She was a Witch; Deadly nightshade flowers in a ditch— My great grandam—She was a Witch; Long though the shroud it grows stitch by stitch— My great grandam—She was a Witch; Wean your weakling before you breech— My great grandam—She was a Witch; The fattest pig's but a double flitch— My great grandam—She was a Witch; Nightjars rattle, owls scritch— My great grandam—She was a Witch. Pretty and small, A mere nothing at all, Pinned up sharp in the ghost of a shawl, She'd straddle her down to the kirkyard wall, And mutter and whisper and call; and call— And—call. Red blood out and black blood in, My Nannie says I'm a child of sin— How did I choose me my witchcraft kin! Know I as soon as dark's dreams begin Snared is my heart in a nightmare's gin; Never from terror I out may win; So dawn and dusk I pine, peak, thin, Scarcely beknowing t'other from which— My great grandam—She was a Witch.