Coffins stood round like open presses,
That shaw’d the Dead in their last dresses,
And (by some devilish cantraip sleight)
Each in its cauld hand held a light…

—in Robert Burns’s 1791 poem, Tam o Shanter stumbles upon a witches’ hoolie in the ruined Alloway kirk…
🖼️ John Faed, 1855
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