And happy the Boy who can lend her a lick;—
Nay, happy the urchin—Charity-bred,—
"Who can shy very nigh to her wicked, old head!"
Alas! to think how people's creeds
Are contradicted by people's deeds!
But though the wishes that Witches utter
Can play the most diabolical rigs—
Send styes in the eye—and measle the pigs—
Grease horses' heels—and spoil the butter;
Smut and mildew the corn on the stalk—