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The Witch

by Lore The Mouse

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David Beaumier
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about

This is a poem by Mary Coleridge.

lyrics

I have walked a great while over the snow,
And I am not tall nor strong.
My clothes are wet, and my teeth are set,
And the way was hard and long.
I have wandered all the earth,
But never here before.
Lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!

The cutting wind is a cruel foe.
I dare not stand in the blast.
My hands are stone, and my voice a groan,
And the worst of death is past.
I am but a maiden still,
My feet are bare and sore.
Lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!

Her voice was the voice that women have,
Who plead for their heart's desire.
She came—she came— and the quivering flame
Sunk and died in the fire.
Never was it lit again
Since I hurried cross the floor,
To lift her over the threshold, and let her in at the door.

credits

released December 3, 2014
Poem by Mary Coleridge
Music by Ellie Gordon

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Lore The Mouse Bellingham, Washington

Nonbinary musician trying to negotiate a love for poetry and a love for music with zero money, little time, and little knowledge of what they're doing.

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