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Short poem

Thomas Campion (1567-1620)

Thrice Toss These Oaken Ashes

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

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

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

Online text copyright © 2003, Ian Lancashire for the Department of English, University of Toronto.
Published by the Web Development Group, Information Technology Services, University of Toronto Libraries.

Original text: Thomas Campion, The third and fovrth booke of ayres (London: Thomas Snodham, 1617). M C346 MUSI mfm. Facs. edn. Menston: Scolar, 1973. M 2 C14A5 Robarts Library
First publication date: 1617
RPO poem editor: N. J. Endicott
RP edition: 2RP.1.250; RPO 1996-2000.
Recent editing: 2:2001/12/6

Form: quatrains
Rhyme: aabb

Other poems by Thomas Campion