He came and shook his bell;
And with the equinox he pass'd,
But whither none could tell.
Some thought the monster turn'd to dew,
When muffins ceased to reign,
And lay in buds the summer through
Till muffin-time again.
Or Satyr, used the woods to rove,
Or ev'n old Caliban;
Drawn by the lure of oven-stove