SLANDER
:
OR
,
THE
WITCH
OF
WOKEY
Wokey-hole
is
a
noted
cavern
in
Somersetshire
,
which
has
given
birth
to
as
many
wild
fanciful
stories
as
the
Sybils
cave
in
Italy
.
Through
a
very
narrow
entrance
,
it
opens
into
a
large
vault
,
the
roof
whereof
,
either
on
account
of
its
height
,
or
the
thickness
of
the
gloom
,
cannot
be
discovered
by
the
light
of
torches
.
It
goes
winding
a
great
way
underground
,
is
crost
by
a
stream
of
very
cold
water
,
and
is
all
horrid
with
broken
pieces
of
rock
:
many
of
these
are
evident
petrifac
tions
;
which
on
account
of
their
singular
forms
,
have
given
rise
to
the
fables
alluded
to
in
this
poem
.
.
IN
aunciente
days
tradition
shows
,
A
sorry
wicked
elf
arose
,
The
witch
of
Wokey
hight
A
petrifaction
in
the
cavern
of
Wokey
so
called
.
,
Oft
have
I
heard
the
fearful
tale
.
From
Sue
and
Roger
of
the
vale
,
Told
out
in
winter
night
.
Deep
in
the
dreary
dismal
cell
Which
seem'd
,
and
was
y-cleped
hell
,
This
blue-eye'd
hag
was
sty'd
;
Nine
wicked
elves
have
legends
sayne
By
night
she
chose
her
guardian
train
,
All
kennell'd
close
her
side
.
Here
screeching
owls
oft
made
their
nest
,
While
wolves
its
craggy
sides
possest
,
Night
howling
through
the
rocks
;
No
wholesome
herb
cou'd
here
be
found
,
She
blasted
every
plant
around
,
And
blister'd
o'er
the
flocks
.
Her
haggard
face
so
foul
to
see
,
Her
mouth
unmeet
a
mouth
to
be
,
With
eyne
of
deadly
leer
;
She
nought
devis'd
but
neighbours
ill
,
On
all
she
wreak'd
her
wayward
will
,
And
marr'd
all
goodly
cheer
.
All
in
her
prime
,
have
poets
sunge
,
No
gaudy
youth
,
gallante
and
younge
Ere
blest
her
longing
arms
;
Hence
rose
her
fell
despight
to
vex
,
And
blast
the
youth
of
either
sex
,
By
dint
of
hellish
charms
.
From
Glaston
came
a
lerned
wight
,
Full
bent
to
marr
her
fell
despight
,
And
well
he
did
I
ween
;
Save
hers
,
sich
mischief
ne'er
was
knowne
,
And
since
his
mickle
lerninge
showne
,
Sich
mischief
ne'er
has
beene
.
He
chauntede
out
his
godlie
booke
,
He
cross'd
the
water
,
bleste
the
brooke
,
Then
—
Pater-noster
done
,
The
gastly
hag
he
sprinkled
o'er
,
When
lo
!
where
stood
the
hag
before
,
Now
stood
a
gastly
stone
.
Full
well
'tis
knowne
adown
the
vale
,
Tho'
strange
may
seem
the
dismal
tale
Eke
wondrous
may
appear
;
I'm
bold
to
say
,
there
;
s
never
one
That
has
not
seen
the
witch
in
stone
,
With
all
her
household
gear
.
But
tho'
this
lernede
clerke
did
well
,
With
grieved
heart
,
alas
I
tell
,
She
left
this
curse
behind
;
"
My
sex
shall
be
forsaken
quite
,
"
"
Tho'
sense
and
beauty
both
unite
,
"
"
Nor
find
a
man
that's
kinde
.
"
Now
lo
e'en
as
this
fiend
did
say
,
The
sex
have
found
it
to
this
day
,
That
men
are
wondrous
scante
;
Here's
beauty
,
wit
,
and
sense
combin'd
,
With
all
that's
good
,
and
virtuous
join'd
,
Yet
scarce
there's
one
gallante
.
Shall
such
fair
nymphs
thus
daily
moan
!
They
might
I
trow
as
well
be
stone
,
As
thus
forsaken
dwell
;
Since
Glaston
now
can
boast
no
clerks
From
Oxenford
come
down
,
ye
sparks
,
And
help
revoke
the
spell
.
Yet
stay
—
nor
thus
despond
,
ye
fair
,
Virtue's
the
gods
peculiar
care
,
Then
mark
their
kindly
voice
;
"
Your
sex
shall
soon
be
blest
again
,
"
"
We
only
wait
to
find
sich
men
"
"
As
best
deserve
sich
choice
.
"