Forth popped the sprite so thin;
And from the key-hole bolted out,
All upright as a pin.
With whiskers, band, and pantaloon,
And ruff composed most duly;
The squire he dropped his pen full soon,
While as the light burnt bluely.
"Ho! Master Sam," quoth Sandys' sprite,
"Write on, nor let me scare ye;
Forsooth, if rhymes fall in not right,