tone, silk, and silence fill
the barrow past the door
it is old, the door, and iron-barred,
and it leads to the windy toor.

There are cobwebs there, and dusty air,
and a well that is dark and sweet
and in the well, down in the deep,
the briar witches meet.

They screech, and swear, and braid their hair,
and talk of the pock-faced moon,
until a wide-eyed wisher comes
to ask of the well one boon.

They listen, then, and only when
the wisher is wild and scared
(by his own voice sounding echo-made)
do they call up the stag-eyed laird.

"WHO DARES!" he booms, "WHAT MADMAN DARES!"
and a white mist falls on the toor,
while the wisher screams a strangled dream
in the barrow past the door.

Then stone, silk, and silence fill
the well that is dark and sweet.
Where smiling, in the darksome deep,
the briar witches eat.