DM
153
DM 129
Orchestraccia
Porte D'entrée
Mary Elizabeth Counselman
{below}
♥ ♠ ♦ ♣
Mary Elizabeth Counselman
Witch-Burning
They burned a witch in Bingham Square
Last Friday afternoon.
The faggot-smoke was blacker than
The shadows on the moon;
The licking flames were strangely green
Like fox-fire on the fen . . .
And she who cursed the godly folk
Will never curse again.
They burned a witch in Bingham Square
Before the village gate.
A huswife raised a skinny hand
To damn her, tense with hate.
A huckster threw a jagged stone—
Her pallid cheek ran red . . .
But there was something scornful in
The way she held her head.
They burned a witch in Bingham Square;
Her eyes were terror-wild.
She was a slight, a comely maid,
No taller than a child.
They bound her fast against the stake
And laughed to see her fear . . .
Her red lips muttered secret words
That no one dared to hear.
They burned a witch in Bingham Square—
But ere she swooned with pain
And ere her bones were sodden ash
Beneath the sudden rain,
She set her mark upon that throng . . .
For time can not erase
The echo of her anguished cries,
The memory of her face.