Peter Faultless to his brother Simon :: :: University of Virginia Library

She said, and cross'd herself, in fear,
And surely thought a fiend was near,
And, trembling, hoped, (for doubts came o'er her,)
It was the devil that stood before her!

186

Then grinn'd the sage, a slyish grin;
And she, to bear suspense unable,
Flew at him, overturning th' table,
And seem'd, in tooth and claw, a dragon,
Resolv'd to leave him not a rag on.
Lord, what a pickle he was in!
His bones almost fled out of's skin;
For, in a second, the virago
Had left him scarce a thread to take to.
And first the long beard left his chin,
Then fell to earth his cloak so big,
His cat-skin cap, his worsted wig;
And, like enchantress, self-enchanted,
Gaz'd Mary—on the man she wanted!
He stoop'd no more like toothless eighty,
Or porter beneath burden weighty,
But stood before her strait and young;
And locks of darkest auburn hung,
Cluster'd, above his martial brow,
While love laugh'd on his lip below.
Oh, love, thou still play'st queer tricks many,
Though old and tame, I play not any!