And who shall blame him that he purrs applause, Yet not the less, for modern lights unapt, THE DEVIL'S THOUGHTS. I. FROM his brimstone bed at break of day To visit his snug little farm the Earth, II. Over the hill and over the dale, And he went over the plain, And backward and forward he switched his long tail As a gentleman switches his cane. III. And how then was the Devil drest? Oh! he was in his Sunday's best: His jacket was red and his breeches were blue, And there was a hole where the tail came through. IV. He saw a Lawyer killing a viper On a dung hill hard by his own stable ; And the Devil smiled, for it put him in mind V. He saw an Apothecary on a white horse And the Devil thought of his old friend VI. He saw a cottage with a double coach-house, And the Devil did grin, for his darling sin VII. He peep'd into a rich bookseller's shop, 1 And all amid them stood the tree of life High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit Of vegetable gold (query paper money :) and next to Life Our Death, the tree of knowledge, grew fast by.— * So clomb this first grand thief Thence up he flew, and on the tree of life * PAR. LOST. IV. The allegory here is so apt, that in a catalogue of various readings obtained from collating the MSS. one might expect to find it noted, that for "life" Cod. quid. habent, "trade.” Though indeed the trade, i. e. the bibliopolic, so called kar' žóny, may be regarded as Life sensu eminentiori; a VIII. Down the river did glide, with wind and with tide, A pig with vast celerity; And the Devil look'd wise as he saw how the while, It cut its own throat. "There!" quoth he with a smile, "Goes England's commercial prosperity." IX. As he went through Cold-Bath Fields he saw And the Devil was pleased, for it gave him a hint X. He saw a Turnkey in a trice 66 Unfetter a troublesome blade; Nimbly" quoth he, "do the fingers move suggestion, which I owe to a young retailer in the hosiery line, who on hearing a description of the net profits, dinner parties, country houses, &c. of the trade, exclaimed, “Ay! that's what I call Life now!"-This "Life, our Death," is thus happily contrasted with the fruits of authorship.-Sic nos non nobis mellificamus apes. Of this poem, which with the Fire, Famine, and Slaughter, first appeared in the Morning Post, the 1st, 2d, 3d, 9th, and 16th stanzas were dictated by Mr. Southey. See Apologetic Preface, vol. i. meant, the If any one should ask who General Author begs leave to inform him, that he did once see a red-faced person in a dream whom by the dress he took for a General; but he might have been mistaken, and most certainly he did not hear any names mentioned. In simple verity, the author never meant any one, or indeed any thing but to put a concluding stanza to his doggerel. XI. He saw the same Turnkey unfetter a man With but little expedition, Which put him in mind of the long debate On the Slave-trade abolition. XII. He saw an old acquaintance As he pass'd by a Methodist meeting;— She holds a consecrated key, And the Devil nods her a greeting. XIII. She turned up her nose, and said, And she looked to Mr. And leered like a love-sick pigeon. The Devil quoted Genesis, Like a very learned clerk, How "Noah and his creeping things He took from the poor, XVI. And he gave to the rich, And he shook hands with a Scotchman, For he was not afraid of the He saw with consternation, And back to hell his way did he take, THE TWO ROUND SPACES ON THE TOMB-STONE. SEE the apology for the "Fire, Famine, and Slaughter,' in first volume. This is the first time the author ever published these lines. He would have been glad, had they perished; but they have now been printed repeatedly in magazines, and he is told that the verses will not perish. Here, therefore, they are owned, with a hope that they will be' taken as assuredly they were composed-in mere sport. THE Devil believes that the Lord will come, About the same time that he came last, On an old Christmas-day in a snowy blast: Till he bids the trump sound, neither body nor [bolsters. For the dead men's heads have slipt under their soul stirs, Oh! ho! brother Bard, in our church-yard, |