Yester night I saw a devil in my kip,

16
Yester night I saw a devil in my kip,
Sitting by my side whispers in my ear,
Dos give a written bond on me to grip,
Without soul sign the catcher full of fear
Magic performs miracles but all are false,
As with the waxen wings flying to the sun,
In such condition leave you all saint-palls,
And then from the circle you cannot run.
Always magicians make happy the devils;
They can’t touch body but the Magnus soul,
They are happy when the Magnus revels,
And then know it you go out of the goal.

The devils fear wit and love for ignorance,
And catch minds with promise maintenance.