A Houyhnhnm's Scrapbook/Number 1/A Shropshire Maid

I took a piece of flannel cloth
And cut it like a young man’s heart;
I stuck it with three little pins
And set it in a place apart;

And when three days and nights had passed,
I dipped it in three little bowls
Of milk and wine and dragon’s blood,
And cast it on the glowing coals:

Strange tremors shook the drooping leaves,
Strange shadows in the lightning came,
And thunder over Ludlow rolled
Like a great voice that called a name.

And then Tom Roberts roused from sleep
Before the first echoes ceased to roll.
He rode away into the storm
Hagvisaged as a hag-rid soul.

I know he came to me at dawn
As one who has a tryst to keep:
The bans are read, the vows are said—
God grant I never talk in sleep.