es," 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 a 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