125. A Conjuration: To Electra
By those soft tods of wool,With which the air is full;By all those tinctures thereThat paint the hemisphere;By dews and drizzling rain,That swell the golden grain;By all those sweets that beI’th’ flowery nunnery;By silent nights, and theThree forms of Hecate;By all aspects that blessThe sober sorceress,While juice she strains, and pithTo make her philtres with;By Time, that hastens onThings to perfection;And by your self, the bestConjurement of the rest;—O, my Electra! beIn love with none but me.