On the backs of owls with bloody bills
the very cruel little people came,
riding high above the tops of trees and hills,
over pond and lake and old country lane.
On rocks in the sea the mermaids sat and sang
while along the shore the water-nymphs played,
there to be caught by the sharp eye of any young man
who onto the moonlit cliffs had strayed.
And on the pirates' or the smugglers' ship
he might have spied far out beyond the bay
the jolly sailors, after their all-round trip,
through his telescope, drunk and at play.
Yes on the backs of owls with bloody bills
the very cruel little people came.
It's said there is black magic still,
or that such darkness shall come again.
Under the spell
of her beauty
he was the sword
to her sorcery.
Fight the beauty
and her spell ?
Kings and fools -
truth to tell -
have found it hard
to try to resist
the skin-deep beauty
of a soul-ugly witch.