And then, recurring to its contents sweet
With thirsty eyes, a phrase I must enlist,
He gulp’d the words to hasten to their gist;
In mortal ecstasy his soul was bound—
When, lo! with features all at once a-twist,
He gave a whistle, wild enough in sound
To summon Faustus’s Infernal Hound!
Alas! what little miffs and tiffs in love,
A snubbish word, or pouting look mistaken,
Will loosen screws with sweethearts hand and glove,