When Morine, deceas'd, to the Devil went down,
'Twas nothing would serve him but Satan's own crown.
'Thy fool's head,' quoth Satan, ' that crown shall wear never:
I grant thou'rt as wicked, but not quite so clever.'

When Morine, deceased, to the Devil went down,
It was nothing would serve him but Satan's own crown.
'Thy fool's head,' said Satan, 'that crown shall wear never:
I grant you are as wicked, but not quite so clever.'