From his brimstone bed, at break of day,
A-Walking the Devil is gone.
To look at his little snug farm of the World,
And see how his stock went on.
How then ws the Devil dressed?
O, he was in his Sundays's best;
His coat was red, and his breeches were blue,
And there was a hole where his tail came through.
He passed a cottage with a double coach-house,-
A house of gentility;
And he owned with a grin,
That his favorite sin
Is pride that apes humility.
The Devil's Walk
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