“Enough proud witch, I am content. 
To Malkin Tower the word is sent,
Forth to her task the beldame goes,
And where she points the streamlet flows;
Its customary bed forsaking,
Another distant channel making. 
Round about like elfets tripping,
Stock and stone, and tree are skipping;
Halting where she plants her staff,
With a wild exulting laugh. 

        Ho! ho! ’tis a merry sight,

    Thou hast given the hag to-night.

Lo! the sheepfold, and the herd,
To another site are stirr’d! 
And the rugged limestone quarry,
Where ’twas digg’d may no more tarry;
While the goblin haunted dingle,
With another dell must mingle. 
Pendle Moor is in commotion,
Like the billows of the ocean,
When the winds are o’er it ranging,
Heaving, falling, bursting, changing. 

        Ho! ho! ’tis a merry sight

    Thou hast given the hag to-night.

Lo! the moss-pool sudden flies,
In another spot to rise;
And the scanty-grown plantation,
Finds another situation,
And a more congenial soil,
Without needing woodman’s toil. 
Now the warren moves—­and see! 
How the burrowing rabbits flee,
Hither, thither till they find it,
With another brake behind it. 

        Ho! ho! ’tis a merry sight

    Thou hast given the hag to-night.

Lo! new lines the witch is tracing,
Every well-known mark effacing,
Elsewhere, other bounds erecting,
So the old there’s no detecting. 
Ho! ho! ’tis a pastime quite,
Thou hast given the hag to-night!

The hind at eve, who wander’d o’er
The dreary waste of Pendle Moor,
Shall wake at dawn, and in surprise,
Doubt the strange sight that meets his eyes. 
The pathway leading to his hut
Winds differently,—­the gate is shut. 
The ruin on the right that stood. 
Lies on the left, and nigh the wood;
The paddock fenced with wall of stone,
Wcll-stock’d with kine, a mile hath flown,
The sheepfold and the herd are gone. 
Through channels new the brooklet rushes,
Its ancient course conceal’d by bushes. 
Where the hollow was, a mound
Rises from the upheaved ground. 
Doubting, shouting with surprise,
How the fool stares, and rubs his eyes! 
All’s so changed, the simple elf
Fancies he is changed himself! 
Ho! ho! ’tis a merry sight
The hag shall have when dawns the light. 
But see! she halts and waves her hand. 
All is done as thou hast plann’d.”

After a moment’s pause the voice added,

“I have done as thou hast will’d—­
Now be thy path straight fulfill’d.”

“It shall be,” replied Mistress Nutter, whose features gleamed with fierce exultation.  “Bring forth the proselyte!” she shouted.

And at the words, her swarthy serving-man, Blackadder, came forth from the Lacy chapel, leading Jennet by the hand.  They were followed by Tib, who, dilated to twice his former size, walked with tail erect, and eyes glowing like carbuncles.