II. The angels all were singing out of tune, 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, 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 IV. His business so augmented of late years, That he was forced, against his will, no doubt, 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, Till at the crowning carnage, Waterloo, 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, VII. Let's skip a few short years of hollow peace, 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. VIII. IX. For these things may be bought at their true worth : Bought also; and the torches, cloaks, and banners, * These passages, and others subsequently omitted, will be found in the Report of the Trial at the end of the poem. X. Of all Form'd a sepulchral melo-drame. 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; 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 The natural compound left alone to fight What nature made him at his birth, as bare |