It was many and many a year ago,  
   In a village by the sea,  
That a maiden there lived whom you may know  
   By the name of Witchling Kiki;  
And this maiden she lived with no other thought  
   Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,  
   In this village by the sea,  
But we loved with a love that was more than love—  
   I and my Witchling Kiki—  
With a love that the crows from the woods above  
   Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,  
   In this village by the sea,  
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling  
   My beautiful Witchling Kiki;  
So that her high broom flying came  
   And bore her away from me,  
To shut her up in a sepulchre  
   In this village by the sea.

The crows, not half so happy in the trees,  
   Went envying her and me—  
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,  
   In this village by the sea)  
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,  
   Chilling and killing my Witchling Kiki.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love  
   Of those who were older than we—  
   Of many far wiser than we—  
And neither the crows in the sky above  
   Nor the witches roaming the sea  
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul  
   Of the beautiful Witchling Kiki.

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams  
   Of the beautiful Witchling Kiki;  
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes  
   Of the beautiful Witchling Kiki;  
And so, all the night-tide, I ride by the side  
   Of my witchling—my witchling—my life and my guide,  
In the sepulchre there by the sea,  
   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Continue reading →