Classic Poem

CONTAINING THE COURTSHIP, AND THE WEDDING

I

Who is She that by night from her balcony looks
On a garden, where cabbage is springing?
'Tis the Tailor's fair Lass, that we told of above;
She muses by moonlight on her True Love;
So sharp is Cupid's stinging.

II

She has caught a glimpse of the Prince of the Air
In his Luciferian splendour,
And away with her coyness and maiden reserve: —
For none but the Devil her turn will serve,
Her sorrows else will end her.

III

She saw when he fetch'd her father away,
And the sight no whit did shake her;
For the Devil may sure with his own make free —
And " it saves besides, " quoth merrily she,
" The expence of an Undertaker. —

IV

Then come, my Satan, my darling Sin,
Return to my arms, my Hell Beau;
My Prince of Darkness, my crow-black Dove " —
And she scarce had spoke, when her own True Love
Was kneeling at her elbow!

V

But she wist not at first that this was He,
That had raised such a boiling passion;
For his old costume he had laid aside,
And was come to court a mortal bride
In a coat-and-waistcoat fashion.

VI

She miss'd his large horns, and she miss'd his fair tail,
That had hung so retrospective;
And his raven plumes, and some other marks
Regarding his feet, that had left their sparks
In a mind but too susceptive:

VII

And she held in scorn that mortal born
Should the Prince of Spirits rival,
To clamber at midnight her garden fence —
For she knew not else by what pretence
To account for his arrival.

VIII

" What thief art thou, " quoth she, " in the dark
That stumblest here presumptuous?
Some Irish Adventurer I take you to be —
A Foreigner, from your garb I see,
Which besides is not over sumptuous. "

IX

Then Satan, awhile dissembling his rank,
A piece of amorous fun tries:
Quoth he, " I'm a Netherlander born;
Fair Virgin, receive not my suit with scorn;
I'm a Prince in the Low Countries —

X

Though I travel incog . From the Land of Fog
And Mist I am come to proffer
My crown and my sceptre to lay at your feet;
It is not every day in the week you may meet,
Fair Maid, with a Prince's offer. "

XI

" Your crown and your sceptre I like full well,
They tempt a poor maiden's pride, Sir;
But your lands and possessions — excuse if I'm rude —
Are too far in a Northerly latitude
For me to become your Bride, Sir.

XII

In that aguish clime I should catch my death,
Being but a raw new comer " —
Quoth he, " We have plenty of fuel stout;
And the fires, which I kindle, never go out
By winter, nor yet by summer.

XIII

I am Prince of Hell, and Lord Paramount
Over Monarchs there abiding.
My Groom of the Stables is Nimrod old;
And Nebuchadnazor my stirrups must hold,
When I go out a riding.

XIV

To spare your blushes, and maiden fears,
I resorted to these inventions —
But, Imposture, begone; and avaunt, Disguise! " —
And the Devil began to swell and rise
To his own diabolic dimensions.

XV

Twin horns from his forehead shot up to the moon,
Like a branching stag in Arden;
Dusk wings through his shoulders with eagle's strength
Push'd out; and his train lay floundering in length
An acre beyond the garden. —

XVI

To tender hearts I have framed my lay —
Judge ye, all love-sick Maidens,
When the virgin saw in the soft moonlight,
In his proper proportions, her own true knight,
If she needed long persuadings.

XVII

Yet a maidenly modesty kept her back,
As her sex's art had taught her;
For " the biggest Fortunes, " quoth she, " in the land —
Are not worthy " — then blush'd — " of your Highness's hand —
Much less a poor Taylor's daughter.

XVIII

There's the two Miss Crockfords are single still,
For whom great suitors hunger;
And their Father's hell is much larger than mine " —
Quoth the Devil, " I've no such ambitious design,
For their Dad is an old Fishmonger;

XIX

And I cannot endure the smell of fish —
I have taken an anti-bias
To their livers, especially since the day
That the Angel smoked my cousin away
From the chaste spouse of Tobias.

XX

Had my amorous kinsman much longer staid,
The perfume would have seal'd his obit;
For he had a nicer nose than the wench,
Who cared not a pin for the smother and stench,
In the arms of the Son of Tobit. "

XXI

" I have read it, " quoth she, " in Apocryphal Writ " —
And the Devil stoop'd down, and kiss'd her;
Not Jove himself, when he courted in flame,
On Semele's lips, the love-scorch'd Dame,
Impress'd such a burning blister.

XXII

The fire through her bones and her vitals shot —
" O, I yield, my winsome marrow —
I am thine for life " — and black thunders roll'd —
And she sank in his arms through the garden mould,
With the speed of a red-hot arrow.

XXIII

Merrily, merrily, ring the bells
From each Pandemonian steeple;
For the Devil hath gotten his beautiful Bride,
And a Wedding Dinner he will provide,
To feast all kinds of people.

XXIV

Fat bulls of Basan are roasted whole,
Of the breed that ran at David;
With the flesh of goats, on the sinister side,
That shall stand apart, when the world is tried;
Fit meat for souls unsaved!

XXV

The fowl from the spit were the Harpies' brood,
Which the bard sang near Cremona,
With a garnish of bats in their leathern wings imp't;
And the fish was — two delicate slices crimp't,
Of the whale that swallow'd Jonah.

XXVI

Then the goblets were crown'd, and a health went round
To the Bride, in a wine like scarlet;
No earthly vintage so deeply paints,
For 'twas dash'd with a tinge from the blood of the Saints
By the Babylonian Harlot.

XXVII

No Hebe fair stood Cup Bearer there,
The guests were their own skinkers;
But Bishop Judas first blest the can,
Who is of all Hell Metropolitan,
And kiss'd it to all the drinkers.

XXVIII

The feast being ended, to dancing they went,
To a music that did produce a
Most dissonant sound, while a hellish glee
Was sung in parts by the Furies Three;
And the Devil took out Medusa.

XXIX

But the best of the sport was to hear his old Dam,
Set up her shrill forlorn pipe —
How the wither'd Beldam hobbled about,
And put the rest of the company out —
For she needs must try a horn-pipe.

XXX

But the heat, and the press, and the noise, and the din,
Were so great, that, howe'er unwilling,
Our Reporter no longer was able to stay,
But came in his own defence away,
And left the Bride quadrilling.