"The Doctor's as drunk as the d——," we said,
And we managed a shutter to borrow;
We raised him, and sigh'd at the thought that his head
Whould "consumedly ache" on the morrow.
We bore him home, and we put him to bed,
And we told his wife and his daughter
To give him, next morning, a couple of red
Herrings, with soda-water.—
Loudly they talk'd of his money that's gone,
And his Lady began to upbraid him;
But little he reck'd, so they let him snore on
'Neath the counterpane just as we laid him.
We tuck'd him in, and had hardly done
When, beneath the window calling,
We heard the rough voice of a son of a gun
Of a watchman "One o'clock!" bawling.
Slowly and sadly we all walk'd down
From his room in the uppermost story;
A rushlight was placed on the cold hearth-stone,
And we left him alone in his glory!!
RAISING THE DEVIL. A LEGEND OF CORNELIUS AGRIPPA. R. HARRIS BARHAM.
"And hast thou nerve enough?" he said,
That gray Old Man, above whose head
Unnumbered years have roll'd—
"And hast thou nerve to view," he cried,
"The incarnate Fiend that Heaven defied!—
— Art thou indeed so bold?
"Say, canst Thou, with unshrinking gaze,
Sustain, rash youth, the withering blaze
Of that unearthly eye,
That blasts where'er it lights—the breath
That, like the Simoom, scatters death
On all that yet CAN die!
—"Darest thou confront that fearful form,
That rides the whirlwind, and the storm,
In wild unholy revel!—
The terrors of that blasted brow,
Archangel's once—though ruin'd now—
—Ay—dar'st thou face THE DEVIL?"—
"I dare!" the desperate Youth replied,
And placed him by that Old Man's side,
In fierce and frantic glee,
Unblenched his cheek, and firm his limb
—"No paltry juggling Fiend, but HIM!
—THE DEVIL I-I fain would see!—