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Chanting Obeah's praise and potency,
With sacrifices of a hornless goat;
We hail and celebrate the crownéd snake,
And, worshipping, adore the powers of Ill!
And many of your grave, God-fearing folk
Will fare with us into the forest dim.
Lean Madam Hemingway, the Deacon's wife,
With other matrons as demurely famed,
Even the Parsonwhispermay be there,
With many Sabbath-minded of his flock
Who met the Black Man in the Cedar Woods,
To sign their name upon that book of his,
And Indian Pow-wows with their painted skins,
Will join in our congenial devilry!
Madam Pomeroy:
Here's for the Sabbath, but I will not sign!
Candace:
You need not sign, for in your forehead, plain
