Letter by letter he traced the spell,
Till the sullen toll of Saint Dunstan’s bell,
And the midnight howl of the mastiff bitch,
Announced his doom to the Hallowmass witch.
Still in her grandeur she stood by,
Like an oak that uplooketh to sun and sky;
Then shouted to Warren with fitful breath;
“I’m old mother Nightmare-life-in-death;
Halloo! halloo! we may not stay,
Satan is waiting; away, away;