The storm which bore him vanished, nought That in the house that storm had caught Was ever seen again.

XV.

The gaping neighbours came next day—
They found all vanished from the shore:
The Bible, whence he used to pray,
Half scorched under a hen-coop lay;
Smashed glass-and nothing more!

PART THE SECOND.

THE DEVIL.

I.

THE DEVIL, I safely can aver,

Has neither hoof, nor tail, nor sting;

Nor is he, as some sages swear,

A spirit, neither here nor there,

In nothing-yet in everything.

He is what we are; for sometimes
The Devil is a gentleman;

At others a bard bartering rhymes
For sack; a statesman spinning crimes;
A swindler, living as he can;

III.

A thief, who cometh in the night,

With whole boots and net pantaloons, Like some one whom it were not right To mention;-or the luckless wight, From whom he steals nine silver spoons.

IV.

But in this case he did appear

Like a slop-merchant from Wapping, And with smug face, and eye severe,

On every side did perk and peer

Till he saw Peter dead or napping.

V.

He had on an upper Benjamin

(For he was of the driving schism) In the which he wrapt his skin From the storm he travelled in,

For fear of rheumatism.

VI.

He called the ghost out of the corse;-
It was exceedingly like Peter,—
Only its voice was hollow and hoarse-
It had a queerish look of course-

Its dress too was a little neater.

VII.

The Devil knew not his name and lot; Peter knew not that he was Bell: Each had an upper stream of thought, Which made all seem as it was not; Fitting itself to all things well.

VIII.

Peter thought he had parents dear,
Brothers, sisters, cousins, cronies,

In the fens of Lincolnshire;

He perhaps had found them there Had he gone and boldly shown his

IX.

Solemn phiz in his own village;

Where he thought oft when a boy He'd clomb the orchard walls to pillage The produce of his neighbour's tillage, With marvellous pride and joy.

X.

And the Devil thought he had,
'Mid the misery and confusion
Of an unjust war, just made
A fortune by the gainful trade

Of giving soldiers rations bad

The world is full of strange delusion.

XI.

That he had a mansion planned
In a square like Grosvenor-square,
That he was aping fashion, and
That he now came to Westmoreland
To see what was romantic there.

XII.

And all this, though quite ideal,—
Ready at a breath to vanish,-

Was a state not more unreal
Than the peace he could not feel,
Or the care he could not banish.

XIII.

After a little conversation,

The Devil told Peter, if he chose, He'd bring him to the world of fashion

By giving him a situation

In his own service-and new clothes.

XIV.

And Peter bowed, quite pleased and proud,
And after waiting some few days

For a new livery-dirty yellow

Turned up with black-the wretched fellow Was bowled to Hell in the Devil's chaise. VOL. III.

N

PART THE THIRD.

HELL.

I.

HELL is a city much like London-
A populous and a smoky city;
There are all sorts of people undone,
And there is little or no fun done;

Small justice shown, and still less pity.

II.

There is a Castles,1 and a Canning,
A Cobbett, and a Castlereagh;
All sorts of caitiff corpses planning 2
All sorts of cozening for trepanning

Corpses less corrupt than they.

His wits, or sold them, none knows which;

He walks about a double ghost,

And though as thin as Fraud almost

Ever grows more grim and rich.

IV.

There is a Chancery Court; a King;
A manufacturing mob; a set

Of thieves who by themselves are sent

1 Mr. Rossetti says "Castles was a government spy, much loathed in those days."

2 Mrs. Shelley places a comma here. 3 All seems to me to point to Eldon as the name left out here.