On a cold and ashen Wednesday
The Devil, he came to tea
At just about four, a quiet knock
So, I went to see
Who waited was a dark young man
Dressed crisp in coat and hat
His hand it held a calling card
What could I make of that?
But stand aside and welcome him
This man of wealth and taste
I took his hat, I took his coat
To the table, I moved in haste
I saw that my guest was seated
Then busied with the things
The fire did thrash on the hearthstone
The wind in the chimney, did sing
Frowning, I laid the linen
My finest silver and plate
I filled his cup, then poured my own
Then sat back to wait
The Devil took honey in his tea
He took butter on his bread
He settled in, smiled, and spoke
And this is what he said
“You welcome me, oh Adam’s son,
“You neither flinch nor hesitate.
“Ask of me, now what you will
“The hour is growing late.”
The wind did rattle the windows, then
He took a long slow sip
“Would you pass the cream?” I asked
His cup, it tumbled from his grip
Abashed, the Devil stood
Cursing the mess he’d wrought
Fumbled a bit, then caught himself
And stood as though in thought
“Have you no desire, oh Adam’s Son?
“No secret that you wish filled?
“Have you no dream of lover lost,
“No enemy you’d have killed?”
I considered this a moment
The sky shook as thunder rolled
I offered him a plate of sweets
“Angel food, how droll.”
“A curiosity, sir, and nothing more.”
Said I, righting his cup and plate
“Why tempt man so to evil deeds?
“Why drag us towards this fate?”
The Devil took up his coat and hat
Moved swiftly toward the door
“No, my dear, Man damns Man
“I am but keeping score.”
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