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A thief, and a murderer! Stop her who can! Look well to your lives and your goods! Good people, ye know not the hazard you run, 'Tis the far-famed and much-noted Woods. While I looked at her eye, for the devil is in it, In a trice she whipt off my poor heart: Her brow, cheek and lip - in another sad minute, My peace felt her murderous dart. Her, features, I'll tell you them over - but hold! She deals with your wizards and books; And to peep in her face, if but once you're so bold, There's witchery kills in her looks. But softly - I have it - her haunts are well known, At midnight so slily I'll watch her; And sleeping, undrest, in the dark, all alone Good lord! The dear THIEF HOW I'LL CATCH HER!