First Witch:

Round about the cauldron go;
In the poison'd entrails throw.
Toad, that under cold stone
Days and nights hast thirty-one
Swelter'd venom sleeping got,
Boil thou first i' the charmed pot.






The Witches Chant
t
All:

Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.

Second Witch:

Fillet of fenny snake,
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt, and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg, and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boild and bubble.

All:

Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.

Third Witch:

Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf,
Witches' mummy, maw and gulf
Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digg'd the dark,
...Gall of goat, and slips of yew
Sliver'd in the moon's eclipse,
Nose of Turk, and Tatrtar's lips.
Finger of birth-strangle babe
Ditch-deliver'd by a drab,
Make the gruel thick and slab:
And thereto a tiger's chaudron,
For the ingredients of our cauldron.

All:

Double, double, toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.

Second Witch:

Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.

Macbeth, Act IV, Scene I  by William Shakespear
The Tempest
by William Shakespeare

These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air;
And, Like the baseless fabric of vision,
The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, Like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rock behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
The Viper
   Anonymous
       Four friends, all 10 ears old, decided to challange their fears and spend the night in the big, old haunted house on the edge of town. It was just before midnight and they were down in the candle lit, cobweb filled, dusky cellar scaring each other with ghost stories when there was a loud banging on the window and a low, croaking voice called out, "I am the Viper!"
       The boys, in unison, screamed and high tailed it up the creaky stairs to the entry hall. They stood there panting and shaking when al of a sudden there was a dull thudding at the front door and the same soulless voice groaned, "I am the Viper!"
Not knowing where else to go, the boys scrambled up the wide stairs to the next story and stood huddled on the landing, ashen faced, their knees rattling.
       It was quiet for a long time and they began to slowly relax when, without warning, the big window, not three feet in front of them, began to rattle violently. From the other side the voice, louder, impatient bellowed, "I am the Viper!" The boys, eyes bulging and dry, hollow gurgles coming from their throats, flew up the stairs to the next floor, which was the attic. Because of the low roof they were forced to sit in th middle of the floor, holding each other for dear life.
       Intermittent sobs and snuffles broke the stoney silence. The boys could hear the sounds of rats scurrying about in the darkness and the flapping of bat wings as they flew out a hole in the roof. Time seemed to stand still as the boys contemplated a gruesome death at the hands of this diabolical creature.
       Then they heard it. It started as a low, deep rumbling, like thunder in the distance. The voice quickly grew louder, building in crescendo, until the entire house shook and seemed engulfed in the violent reverberations. "I AM THE VIPER!" The shutters in front of them blasted from their hinged, and  hairy, haggard, misshapen face peered in through the opening. Green eyes glowed in the dark from the center of that horrible face. Bloodless lips parted, revealing a toothless, black opening. "I AM THE VIPER!" And then, with a twinkle in his eyes and a slight smile on his face, he muttered, "I come to vipe your vindows!"

The Raven
by Edgar Allan Poe
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door,
"Tis some visitor," I muttered, tapping at my chamber door-
       Only this and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each seperate dying ember wrought ints ghost upon the floor.
Eagrly I wished the morrow;-vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow-sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
       Nameless here for evermore.
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore.
Nnot the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he,
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched abovve my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
       Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy ccrest be shorn and shaven, thou, "I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
       Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning-little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
       With such name as "Nevermore."
But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered: "Other friends havve flown before-
On the morrow he will leave me as my Hopes have flown before."
       Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
       Of 'Never-nevermore."
But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bidr of your
       Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend! "I shrieked, upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!-quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
       Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
And the Raven, never flitting, still sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow hat lies floating on the floor
       Shall be lifted-nevermore!