The devil wandering up and down The earth one summer day Fell in love with a maiden fair, He met upon his way. Assuming mortal guise he wooed That maiden for his bride; O, he was young, and rich, and grand, And would not be denied. What could she do but love him too? And soon they wedded were. O, she was very fond of him, And he was fond of her. But he had much to do at times, And often stayed out late, At which she fretted, jealous grew, Bemoaning her sad fate. She often wept, and then she pined, Then she began to scold, Till the devil wished himself in hell Again—out of the cold. To them, in time, a son was born, Who on its parents smiled; All its immortal father's love Was centred on the child. But as it grew to man's estate The mother's nature changed, Because the Devil stayed out late And all her plans deranged. Her beauty turned to ugliness, Her love was turned to hate, The Devil bitterly bemoaned The hardship of his fate. So wretched was he in his home, Her tongue so sharp and coarse, He pray'd the Overlord of all To grant him a divorce. But he was told that having wed A mortal woman he Must bear his burden to the end, Whenever that would be. One day the Devil told his son The secret of his birth, And swore he'd give him anything That he might want on earth. The son became a doctor and, Thanks to his father dread, His fame was spread thro' all the land As one who raised the dead. "You'll know," the Devil said, "when you Behold me drawing nigh The patient lying on his bed, If he must live or die. If to his feet I come and stand. Have little doubt or fear; If to his head, you may be sure That death is drawing near." The Doctor fell in love one day, As doctors sometimes do, The maiden of his choice was fair, And young, and good, and true. But e'er he could his passion speak, The plague was in the town, And, passing, kissed her on the cheek, And she was stricken down. Beside her bed the Doctor sat And strove most skilfully To save her life, more dear to him Than ought on earth could be. When, suddenly from out the gloom, He saw a presence dread— His father stood within the room, Anear the patient's head. "O! spare my love;" the Doctor cried. "She must not—shall not die!" The Devil said, "I must obey The order from on high. There is no power to change her fate, No higher and no other."— "There is! There is! I'm not too late! I'll go and call my mother!" At that the Devil took to flight, Nor stayed a moment longer. "There is a power of greater might," The Doctor said, "and stronger Than death or hell. I've proved it here, Dispute the fact can no man, More bitter than the grave—the fear Of a jealous, vengeful woman!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PRISONER OF CHILLON: INTRODUCTORY SONNET by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE OVIDIAN ELEGIAC METRE, DESCRIBED AND EXEMPLIFIED by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE VALLEY'S SINGING DAY by ROBERT FROST A SUN-DAY HYMN [OR LAMENT] by OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES |