Classic Poem

I called the Devil, and he came,
And I looked on him in sheer amaze;
He isn't ugly, he isn't lame,
He's a charming fellow in all his ways.

A man indeed in the prime of life,
Courteous, obliging, experience-rife.
As a diplomatist too he's great,
And holds correct views upon Church and State.
No wonder his face is far from ruddy,
For not only Sanskrit, but Hegel's his study,
And of all the poets his favourite's Fouqué.
He'll have nothing whatever to do with critique,
But leaves all that to his grandmamma, eke
His revered old grandmamma, Hecate.
Of my taking to Law he highly approved,
Himself had once towards it been moved.
He vowed that no value too high could be set

On my friendship—and then, why he fancied we'd met,
He added, and gave me a knowing glance,
At the Spanish ambassador's, as he surmised—
And eying more keenly his countenance,
An old acquaintance I recognised.