That was both fresh and lovely to see,
And full of favour as kid might be.
His velvet head began to shoot out,
And his wreathed horns gan newly sprout;
The blossoms of lust to bud did begin,
And spring forth rankly under his chin.
"My son," (quoth she, and with that gan weep;
For careful thoughts in her heart did creep;)
"God bless thee, poor orphan! as he might me,
And send thee joy of thy jollity.