And first her fern-seed[10] doth bestow,
  The kernel of the mistletoe;
  And here and there as Puck should go,
      With terror to affright him,
  She nightshade straws to work him ill,
  Therewith her vervain and her dill,
  That hindreth witches of their will,
      Of purpose to despite him.

  Then sprinkles she the juice of rue,
  That groweth underneath the yew;
  With nine drops of the midnight dew,
      From lunary[11] distilling: 
  The molewarp’s brain mixed therewithal;
  And with the same the pismire’s gall: 
  For she in nothing short would fall,
      The Fairy was so willing.

  Then thrice under a briar doth creep,
  Which at both ends was rooted deep,
  And over it three times she leap,
      Her magic much availing;
  Then on Proserpina doth call,
  And so upon her spell doth fall,
  Which here to you repeat I shall,
      Not in one tittle failing.

  “By the croaking of the frog,
  By the howling of the dog,
  By the crying of the hog
      Against the storm arising;
  By the evening curfew bell,
  By the doleful dying knell,
  O let this my direful spell,
      Hob, hinder thy surprising!

  “By the mandrake’s dreadful groans,
  By the lubrican’s[12] sad moans,
  By the noise of dead men’s bones
      In charnel-houses rattling;
  By the hissing of the snake,
  The rustling of the fire-drake[13],
  I charge thee thou this place forsake,
      Nor of Queen Mab be prattling!

  “By the whirlwind’s hollow sound,
  By the thunder’s dreadful stound,
  Yells of spirits underground,
      I charge thee not to fear us;
  By the screech-owl’s dismal note,
  By the black night-raven’s throat,
  I charge thee, Hob, to tear thy coat
      With thorns, if thou come near us!”

  Her spell thus spoke, she stept aside,
  And in a chink herself doth hide,
  To see thereof what would betide,
      For she doth only mind him: 
  When presently she Puck espies,
  And well she marked his gloating eyes,
  How under every leaf he pries,
      In seeking still to find them.

  But once the circle got within,
  The charms to work do straight begin,
  And he was caught as in a gin;
      For as he thus was busy,
  A pain he in his head-piece feels,
  Against a stubbed tree he reels,
  And up went poor Hobgoblin’s heels;
      Alas! his brain was dizzy!

  At length upon his feet he gets,
  Hobgoblin fumes, Hobgoblin frets;
  And as again he forward sets,
      And through the bushes scrambles,
  A stump doth trip him in his pace;
  Down comes poor Hob upon his face,
  And lamentably tore his case,
      Amongst the briars and brambles.