Classic Poem

On the lonely Heath of Hampstead
I awoke, and as I waken'd
Saw the Devil departing from me
Thro' the shadows of the night;

Limping lame, and bending double,
Like a venerable mortal,
Round he turn'd, before he vanish'd,
Sigh'd, and fixed his eyes on mine.

(Ah, the sleepless eyes, so woeful
With the wisdom of the Serpent!
Ah, the piteous face so weary
With the woes of all the worlds!)

Forcing then his wrinkled features
To a smile, and grimly laughing—
‘Plead,’ he said, ‘for the Defendant!
Be my Laureate, yet remember:

‘If the priests were right, and yonder
Waited Heaven and compensation,
I'd at once admit my folly,
Taking off my hat to God!’

Nodding quietly, he vanish'd
While again I sadly wander'd
O'er the lonely Heath of Hampstead,
Thro' the silence of the Night. . . .