Themselves with morsels rich and fat
Or die upon the floor,
Like paupers (grieving much thereat
The guardians of the poor).
XIII.
Ye earlie byrde prepareth for ye 'Diet of Wormes.'
A cock then flapped his wings and crew,
Announcing coming light;
When, seizing on a jar of stew,
The snubbed imp took his flight.
XIV.
Les Adieux.
And at the solemn sound of doom
The witches flew away,
While Satan slunk off through the gloom,
Afraid of break of day;
XV.
Ye fruitlesse remorse of Beelzebubbe.
And in the darkness drear he cried—
His voice a trifle gruff,
'Those omelettes were nicely fried;
I have not had enough!'