<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365752" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Hush!</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hush! Dear, Hush! <br>Your mother has went, <br>To fly all night<br>A broomstick, to Gwent.<br>You must be quiet, <br>Lips heavy as lead, <br>Or father will wake<br>To a broom in his bed.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Hush! Dear child, <br>She's painted her nails, <br>Rubbed in the ointment<br>Of bats and snails, <br>Put on a hat that's<br>As black as pitch, <br>And ducked right under<br>The candlesticks.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Three times three<br>The cock has crowed, <br>And spilt its blood at<br>The old crossroads, <br>Your mother's known<br>As a mighty Dame, <br>But sports herself<br>In the Devil's name.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'She flies by night<br>Where the air is hot, <br>Over the roofs<br>And the chimneypots, <br>Then swoops on down<br>Like a fiend in a fog, <br>Down on all fours with<br>The graveyard dog.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'She kisses the goat<br>Right under its tail, <br>Then makes her enemies<br>Fortunes fail, <br>She blights their crops<br>And their kine run dry<br>A thimble pricked<br>Sees them waste, and die.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'And while she dances<br>Beneath the Moon, <br>Her husband slumbers <br>At home, alone; <br>If once he should wake<br>With the slightest suspicion, <br>It's then that she'll face<br>The Inquisition! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The old witch-finder<br>Will seek her art, <br>Will strip and search<br>For the Devil's Mark, <br>Will look for a place<br>Where she feels no pain, <br>Insert his needles<br>Again and again! '</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Then duck her well<br>In the swimming chair, <br>She'd better sink <br>Than survive it there, <br>For once she floats<br>And the magic's known<br>The stake is waiting<br>To burn the crone.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'To burn her clothes, <br>Her flesh, her hair, <br>The crowd will gather<br>Her screams to hear, <br>And she will beg them<br>To end her pains, <br>Garotte her before <br>The unholy flames.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'So Hush! Dear, Hush! <br>Your mother has went, <br>To fly all night<br>A broomstick, to Gwent.<br>If you should cry<br>And bring us disgrace, <br>They'll burn you too<br>In the marketplace.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">3 May 2008</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=David+Lewis+Paget">David Lewis Paget</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=365752" data-title="Hush! de David Lewis Paget" data-description="'Hush! Dear, Hush! Your mother has went, To fly all night A broomstick, to Gwent. You must be quiet, Lips heavy as lead, Or father will wake To a broom in his bed.' 'Hush! Dear child, She's painted her nails, Rubbed in the ointment Of bats ..."></div> </div> </div>

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