That made him raise his hair in such a bristle,
And like the Boatswain of the Storm-Ship whistle.
“The moon’s at full, love, and I think of thee,”—
“Indeed! I’m very much her humble debtor,
But not the moon-calf she would have me be,
Zounds! does she fancy that I know no better?”
Herewith, at either corner of the letter
He gave a most ferocious, rending, pull;—
“O woman! woman! that no vows can fetter,
A moon to stay for three weeks at the full!