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II.

The angels all were singing out of tune,
And hoarse with having little else to do,
Excepting to wind up the sun and moon,

Or curb a runaway young star or two,

Or wild colt of a comet, which too soon

Broke out of bounds o'er the ethereal blue,
Splitting some planet with its playful tail,
As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.

III.

The guardian seraphs had retired on high,
Finding their charges past all care below;
Terrestrial business fill'd nought in the sky

Save the recording angel's black bureau;
Who found, indeed, the facts to multiply
With such rapidity of vice and wo,
That he had stripped off both his wings in quills,
And yet was in arrear of human ills.

IV.

His business so augmented of late years,

That he was forced, against his will, no doubt, (Just like those cherubs, earthly ministers,) For some resource to turn himself about, And claim the help of his celestial peers,

To aid him ere he should be quite worn out By the increased demand for his remarks;

Six angels and twelve saints were named his clerks.

V.

This was a handsome board-at least for heaven;
And yet they had even then enough to do,
So many conquerors' cars were daily driven,
So many kingdoms fitted up anew;
Each day too slew its thousands six or seven,

Till at the crowning carnage, Waterloo,
They threw their pens down in divine disgust-
The page was so besmear'd with blood and dust.

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VI.

This by the way; 'tis not mine to record
What angels shrink from: even the very devil
On this occasion his own work abhorr'd,

So surfeited with the infernal revel;

Though he himself had sharpen'd every sword,
It almost quench'd his innate thirst of evil.
(Here Satan's sole good work deserves insertion—
"Tis, that he has both Generals in reversion.)

VII.

Let's skip a few short years of hollow peace,
Which peopled earth no better, hell as wont,
And heaven none-they form the tyrant's lease

With nothing but new names subscribed upon 't; "Twill one day finish: meantime they increase,

"With seven heads and ten horns," and all in front, Like Saint John's foretold beast; but ours are born Less formidable in the head than horn.

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For these things may be bought at their true worth :
Of elegy there was the due infusion—

Bought also; and the torches, cloaks, and banners,
Heralds, and relics of old Gothic manners,

* These passages, and others subsequently omitted, will be found in the Appendix.

X

Form'd a sepulchral melo-drame. Of all
The fools who flock'd to swell or see the show,
Who cared about the corpse? The funeral

Made the attraction, and the black the wo.

There throbb'd not there a thought which pierced the pall; And when the gorgeous coffin was laid low,

It seem'd the mockery of hell to fold

The rottenness of eighty years in gold.

XI.

So mix his body with the dust! It might
Return to what it must far sooner, were

The natural compound left alone to fight

Its way back into earth, and fire, and air; But the unnatural balsams merely blight

What nature made him at his birth, as bare As the mere million's base unmummied clayYet all his spices but prolong decay.

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