Page:The complete poetical works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, including materials never before printed in any edition of the poems.djvu/376

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 94
 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 wrapped his skin
From the storm he travelled in,
 For fear of rheumatism. 100

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. 105

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. 110

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 115

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. 120

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— 125
 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 130
 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. 135
 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 140
 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 145
 Was bowled to Hell in the Devil's chaise.

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; 150
 Small justice shown, and still less pity.

ii
There is a Castles, and a Canning,
 A Cobbett, and a Castlereagh;
All sorts of caitiff corpses planning
All sorts of cozening for trepanning 155
 Corpses less corrupt than they.