I verily believe you’ve got a craze!
Beseems it you with such outrageous phrase,
To rage like any bedlamite?
Mephistopheles.
Only conceive! the box of rare gewgaws
For Margaret got, is in a parson’s claws!
The thing came to the mother’s sight,
Who soon suspected all was not right:
The woman has got a most delicate nose,
That snuffling through the prayer-book goes,