Mummy Dust To Make Me Old; To Shroud My Clothes, The Black Of Nigh

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Mummy dust to make me old;
To shroud my clothes, the black of night;
To age my voice, an old hag's cackle;
To whiten my hair, a scream of fright;
A blast of wind to fan my hate;
A thunderbolt to mix it well --
Now begin thy magic spell!
-- The Evil Queen, "Snow White"

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