There in his nightshirt
hope's candle by his bed
the nightcap askew
till fallen from his head.
Clammy sweat pored downward
as I bathed his glistening brow
to release the angry fever
and dampen future vows.
One day when delerious
fancying my virtue by trust
I dreamed we'd soon be married
when we ate the holy crust.
Yet the touch of the Devil's hand
did snuff the haughty spark
as evil gushes from his mouth
such vileness in the dark.