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The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 1. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Narrative and legendary poems (search)
p the violet in its dell, The wind-flower on its hill. “Where go you, in your Sunday coat, Son Andrew, tell me, pray.” “For striped perch in Wenham Lake I go to fish to-day.” “Unharmed of thee ie sweet with prayer; Go where you will, in ten miles round Is none more good and fair. “ “Son Andrew, for the love of God And of thy mother, stay!” She clasped her hands, she wept aloud, But AndrewAndrew rode away. “O reverend sir, my Andrew's soul The Wenham witch has caught; She holds him with the curled gold Whereof her snare is wrought. She charms him with her great blue eyes, She binds him wAndrew's soul The Wenham witch has caught; She holds him with the curled gold Whereof her snare is wrought. She charms him with her great blue eyes, She binds him with her hair; Oh, break the spell with holy words, Unbind him with a prayer! “ ‘Take heart,’ the painful preacher said, “This mischief shall not be; The witch shall perish in her sins And Andrew shaAndrew shall go free. Our poor Ann Putnam testifies She saw her weave a spell, Bare-armed, loose-haired, at full of moon, Around a dried — up well. Spring up, O well! she softly sang T