On this very velvet night,
He went out in despair;
When having walked paces few,
He found her lying there:
There she lay, in a velvet robe--
All path seemed unaware--
He caught a glimpse of her silhouete,
And just stood staring there...
He waited on her to come to life,
Having lost all sense;
And well, she did as he prayed
Then cried sounding tense:
"Who goes-by here"(she asked in dark),
Hearing which he replied:
"'tis I, just a passer-by",
"Methought that you were died",
"I have my cottage just around",
"Come in if you don't mind",
"For it's a pretty vicious night...."
She uttered, "You are kind"...
And in she came--He sat to rest--
She drew out a knife,
Stabbed him thrice, with an awry smile
And cried, "I come to take your life"...
It sure was a vicious night,
That wore a velvet hide:
He saw Death dancing in her eyes,
An' then promptly died...