“O come then,” she cried with a smile,
“And I’ll show you the place and the way.”
I followed the witch to her home,
And vow’d to be always her guest:
“Never more,” I exclaim’d, “will I roam
In search of the Mansion of Rest.”
But the sweetest of moments will fly;
Not long was my fancy beguiled;
For too soon I confess’d with a sigh,
That the syren deceived while she smiled.