’Twas he that of the surf had had this surfeit!—
And in his fob, the cause of late monopolies!
We found a contract signed Mephistopheles!
A bond of blood, whereby the sinner gave
His forfeit soul to Satan in reversion,
Providing in this world he was to have
A lordship over luck, by whose exertion
He might control the course of cards, and brave
All throws of dice,—but on a sea excursion
The juggling Demon, in his usual vein,