A Conjuration To Electra

By those soft tods of wool

With which the air is full;

By all those tinctures there,

That paint the hemisphere;

By dews and drizzling rain

That swell the golden grain;

By all those sweets that be

I' the flowery nunnery;

By silent nights, and the

Three forms of Hecate;

By all aspects that bless

The sober sorceress,

While juice she strains, and pith

To make her philters with;

By time that hastens on

Things to perfection;

And by yourself, the best

Conjurement of the rest:

O my Electra! be

In love with none but me.