21.

After these ghastly rides, he came Home to his heart, and found from thence _560 Much stolen of its accustomed flame; His thoughts grew weak, drowsy, and lame Of their intelligence.

22.

To Peter's view, all seemed one hue; He was no Whig, he was no Tory; _565 No Deist and no Christian he;-- He got so subtle, that to be Nothing, was all his glory.

23.

One single point in his belief From his organization sprung, _570 The heart-enrooted faith, the chief Ear in his doctrines' blighted sheaf, That 'Happiness is wrong';

24.

So thought Calvin and Dominic; So think their fierce successors, who _575 Even now would neither stint nor stick Our flesh from off our bones to pick, If they might 'do their do.'

25.

His morals thus were undermined:-- The old Peter--the hard, old Potter-- _580 Was born anew within his mind; He grew dull, harsh, sly, unrefined, As when he tramped beside the Otter. (1)

26.

In the death hues of agony Lambently flashing from a fish, _585 Now Peter felt amused to see Shades like a rainbow's rise and flee, Mixed with a certain hungry wish(2).

27.

So in his Country's dying face He looked--and, lovely as she lay, _590 Seeking in vain his last embrace, Wailing her own abandoned case, With hardened sneer he turned away:

28.

And coolly to his own soul said;-- 'Do you not think that we might make _595 A poem on her when she's dead:-- Or, no--a thought is in my head-- Her shroud for a new sheet I'll take:

29.

'My wife wants one.--Let who will bury This mangled corpse! And I and you, _600 My dearest Soul, will then make merry, As the Prince Regent did with Sherry,--'

'Ay--and at last desert me too.'

30.

And so his Soul would not be gay, But moaned within him; like a fawn _605 Moaning within a cave, it lay Wounded and wasting, day by day, Till all its life of life was gone.

31.

As troubled skies stain waters clear, The storm in Peter's heart and mind _610 Now made his verses dark and queer: They were the ghosts of what they were, Shaking dim grave-clothes in the wind.

32.

For he now raved enormous folly, Of Baptisms, Sunday-schools, and Graves, _615 'Twould make George Colman melancholy To have heard him, like a male Molly, Chanting those stupid staves.

33.

Yet the Reviews, who heaped abuse On Peter while he wrote for freedom, _620 So soon as in his song they spy The folly which soothes tyranny, Praise him, for those who feed 'em.

34.

'He was a man, too great to scan;-- A planet lost in truth's keen rays:-- _625 His virtue, awful and prodigious;-- He was the most sublime, religious, Pure-minded Poet of these days.'

35.

As soon as he read that, cried Peter, 'Eureka! I have found the way _630 To make a better thing of metre Than e'er was made by living creature Up to this blessed day.'

36.

Then Peter wrote odes to the Devil;-- In one of which he meekly said: _635 'May Carnage and Slaughter, Thy niece and thy daughter, May Rapine and Famine, Thy gorge ever cramming, Glut thee with living and dead! _640

37.

'May Death and d.a.m.nation, And Consternation, Flit up from h.e.l.l with pure intent!

Slash them at Manchester, Glasgow, Leeds, and Chester; _645 Drench all with blood from Avon to Trent.

38.

'Let thy body-guard yeomen Hew down babes and women, And laugh with bold triumph till Heaven be rent!

When Moloch in Jewry _650 Munched children with fury, It was thou, Devil, dining with pure intent. (1)

PART 7.

DOUBLE d.a.m.nATION.

1.

The Devil now knew his proper cue.-- Soon as he read the ode, he drove To his friend Lord MacMurderchouse's, _655 A man of interest in both houses, And said:--'For money or for love,

2.

'Pray find some cure or sinecure; To feed from the superfluous taxes A friend of ours--a poet--fewer _660 Have fluttered tamer to the lure Than he.' His lordship stands and racks his

3.

Stupid brains, while one might count As many beads as he had boroughs,-- At length replies; from his mean front, _665 Like one who rubs out an account, Smoothing away the unmeaning furrows:

4.

'It happens fortunately, dear Sir, I can. I hope I need require No pledge from you, that he will stir _670 In our affairs;--like Oliver.

That he'll be worthy of his hire.'

5.

These words exchanged, the news sent off To Peter, home the Devil hied,-- Took to his bed; he had no cough, _675 No doctor,--meat and drink enough.-- Yet that same night he died.

6.

The Devil's corpse was leaded down; His decent heirs enjoyed his pelf, Mourning-coaches, many a one, _680 Followed his hea.r.s.e along the town:-- Where was the Devil himself?

7.

When Peter heard of his promotion, His eyes grew like two stars for bliss: There was a bow of sleek devotion _685 Engendering in his back; each motion Seemed a Lord's shoe to kiss.

8.

He hired a house, bought plate, and made A genteel drive up to his door, With sifted gravel neatly laid,-- _690 As if defying all who said, Peter was ever poor.

9.

But a disease soon struck into The very life and soul of Peter-- He walked about--slept--had the hue _695 Of health upon his cheeks--and few Dug better--none a heartier eater.

10.

And yet a strange and horrid curse Clung upon Peter, night and day; Month after month the thing grew worse, _700 And deadlier than in this my verse I can find strength to say.

11.

Peter was dull--he was at first Dull--oh, so dull--so very dull!

Whether he talked, wrote, or rehea.r.s.ed-- _705 Still with this dulness was he cursed-- Dull--beyond all conception--dull.

12.

No one could read his books--no mortal, But a few natural friends, would hear him; The parson came not near his portal; _710 His state was like that of the immortal Described by Swift--no man could bear him.