VI.
Thy Steps must next advance, Where Horrour, Sin, and Spectars dwell, Where the Woods Shade seems turn'd Hell, Witches here Nightly Dance, And Sprights joyn with them when they call, The Murderer dares not view the Ball. For Snakes and Toads conspire, To make them up a Quire. And for their Light, And Torches bright, The Fiends dance all on fire.