Lyric The witches Rune

Thrice the brinded cat hath mew d.

Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined.

Harpier cries Tis time, tis time.

Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison d entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and night has thirty-one
Swelter d venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i the charmed pot.

double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bouble.

Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and toungue of dog,
Adder s fork and blind-worm s sting,
Lizard s leg and owlet s wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bouble.

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin d salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg d i the dark
Liver of blaspheming Jew,
Call of goat, and slips of yew
Silver d in the moon s eclipse,
Nose of Turk and Tartar s lips
Finger of birth-strangled babe
Ditch-deliver d by a drab,
Add thereto a tiger s chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.

Coll it with baboon s blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

O well done! I commend your pains;
And every one shall share i the gains;
And now about the cauldron sing,
Live elves and fairies in a ring,
Enchanting all that you put in.

By the pricking of my thumbs,
Something wicked this way comes.
open,locks,
Whoever knocks!