"She pointed to her father's gate,
"(A graveyard was his whole estate)
"The bars were weak, the boards were thin,
"She sung a psalm—and took me in.
"Of shadowy stuff my parents were,
"Composed of fogs, or framed of air:
"He sold his brimstone to the skies,
"While nitre kindled in Her eyes.
"They feasted on the vapours blue,
"Their glass of wine was evening dew;
"On Etna's top they made their bed,
"And there was I, their devil, bred.
"My prowess is almost adored,
"I blunt the edge of Orion's sword;
"I seize Aquarius by the throat,
"Nor care for Libra, or the Goat.
"My word is, when I meet my foes,
"Here's to the Lucky Wind that blows!
"And, instant, all is sighs and groans,
"And battered heads, and broken bones.
"I now reward you for your spite—
"I draw my weapon—see, how bright!
"My last exploit in war I crown,
"And thus—and thus—I throw you down!
"Ah, miscreant! why that scream of death?
"I only meant to—draw your teeth!—
"Oh no!—I scorn to take your life—
"Go, Madam,—be a prudent wife.
"But, lady, I would have you know
"You lose your arrows and your bow:
"They are indeed of slender make,
"And, in your hands might kill a rake:
"So, to prevent such fatal harms,
"I leave you destitute of arms—
"I now must go!"—he, laughing, said,
And vanished to the Stygian shade.
This contest with Megara done,
Thou dear, defeated Amazon!—
As happy, now, as man can be,
I hang my pen on yonder tree:
It only asks one day of rest,
It yields to every changing blast—
Yes—let it stay suspended there,
And strike My Colours—if you dare!