Poem : Thrice Toss These Oaken Ashes

Poet : Thomas Campion

1       Thrice toss these oaken ashes in the air,
2     Thrice sit thou mute in this enchanted chair,
3     Then thrice three times tie up this true love's knot,
4     And murmur soft "She will, or she will not."

5       Go burn these pois'nous weeds in yon blue fire,
6     These screech-owl's feathers and this prickling briar,
7     This cypress gathered at a dead man's grave,
8     That all my fears and cares an end may have.

9       Then come, you fairies! dance with me a round;
10   Melt her hard heart with your melodious sound.
11   In vain are all the charms I can devise:
12   She hath an art to break them with her eyes.