435 THE VISION OF JUDGEMENT 'A Daniel come to judgement! yea, a Daniel! I SAINT PETER sat by the celestial gate: His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull, So little trouble had been given of late; Not that the place by any means was full, But since the Gallic era eighty-eight' The devils had ta'en a longer, stronger pull, And a pull altogether,' as they say At sea-which drew most souls another way. II The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Broke out of bounds o'er th' ethereal blue, III The guardian seraphs had retired on high, 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. 30 V This was a handsome board-at least for heaven; 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, 6 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. VIII In the first year of freedom's second dawn Died George the Third; although no tyrant, one A better farmer ne'er brush'd dew from lawn, IX He died his death made no great stir on earth: Of velvet, gilding, brass, and no great dearth Of aught but tears-save those shed by collusion; X Form'd a sepulchral melodrame. 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 woe. There throbb'd not there a thought which pierced the pall; ΧΙ So mix his body with the dust! It might Return to what it must far sooner, were What nature made him at his birth, as bare XII He's dead—and upper earth with him has done; Or lapidary scrawl, the world is gone For him, unless he left a German will: But where's the proctor who will ask his son ? XIII 'God save the king!' It is a large economy XIV I know this is unpopular; I know 'Tis blasphemous; I know one may be damn'd For hoping no one else may e'er be so; I know my catechism; I know we're cramm'd With the best doctrines till we quite o'erflow; 80 90 100 I know that all save England's church have shamm'd, 110 And that the other twice two hundred churches And synagogues have made a damn'd bad purchase. XV God help us all! God help me too! I am, Than is to bring to land a late-hook'd fish, Not that I'm fit for such a noble dish, XVI Saint Peter sat by the celestial gate, And nodded o'er his keys; when, lo! there came A wondrous noise he had not heard of late A rushing sound of wind, and stream, and flame; In short, a roar of things extremely great, Which would have made aught save a saint exclaim; But he, with first a start and then a wink, Said, 'There's another star gone out, I think! XVII But ere he could return to his repose, A cherub flapp'd his right wing o'er his eyesAt which St. Peter yawn'd, and rubb'd his nose: 'Saint porter,' said the angel, 'prithee rise!' Waving a goodly wing, which glow'd, as glows An earthly peacock's tail, with heavenly dyes: To which the saint replied, 'Well, what's the matter? Is Lucifer come back with all this clatter?' XVIII 6 'No,' quoth the cherub; George the Third is dead.' 6 120 130 And who is George the Third?' replied the apostle : "What George? what Third?' The king of England,' said The angel. 'Well! he won't find kings to jostle Him on his way; but does he wear his head? And ne'er would have got into heaven's good graces, XIX 'He was, if I remember, king of France; That head of his, which could not keep a crown If I had had my sword, as I had once When I cut ears off, I had cut him down; But having but my keys, and not my brand, I only knock'd his head from out his hand. 140 150 XX 'And then he set up such a headless howl, That all the saints came out and took him in; In heaven, and upon earth redeem'd his sin, 160 XXI 'But had it come up here upon its shoulders, There would have been a different tale to tell: The fellow-feeling in the saints beholders Seems to have acted on them like a spell, And so this very foolish head heaven solders Back on its trunk: it may be very well, And seems the custom here to overthrow Whatever has been wisely done below.' XXII The angel answer'd, 'Peter! do_not_pout: He did as doth the puppet-by its wire, XXIII While thus they spake, the angelic caravan, 170 Some silver stream (say Ganges, Nile, or Inde, 180 Or Thames, or Tweed), and 'midst them an old man XXIV But bringing up the rear of this bright host His wings, like thunder-clouds above some coast Whose barren beach with frequent wrecks is paved; His brow was like the deep when tempest-toss'd; Fierce and unfathomable thoughts engraved Eternal wrath on his immortal face, And where he gazed a gloom pervaded space. 190 |