And thrust its venomed lip away."
"Nay, it may be a wild-fire flash
To burn thy lovely limbs to ash."
"On mine own hallows shall I call,
And dead its flickering flame shall fall."
"O Goldilocks my love, I fear
That ugly death shall seek us here.
Look forth, O Goldilocks my love.
That I thine hardy heart may prove.
What cometh down the stone-wrought stair