The demon beast with gliding gait
Would follow on his track,
With sudden spring would seize his prey
And hang upon his back.
The more the victim fought and reeled,
The heavier hung the beast,
The more the victim cursed or prayed,
The closer clung the beast.
The wretched man now sought his home
Beneath this awful load,
With beads of sweat upon his brow
He oft mistook the road.
At last, at last he reached his goal,
Worn out by pain and fear,
And as he passed within his home—
The beast would disappear.
With rattling and with clanking chains
The demon gambolled off,
Avoiding church and crucifix,
To seek the sulphur trough;
But if another maudlin man
There chanced upon his way,
Most gladly would he turn aside
To grapple yet more prey.
Then moans and groans began afresh,
As this new victim found
He too must turn from wrong to right,
By sad repentance bound!
[D] The Baakauf—a legend of Charlemagne’s Day.