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X. He saw a Turnkey in a trice

Fetter* a troublesome blade; “Nimbly," quoth he,“ do the fingers move

If a man be but used to his trade.”


He saw the same Turnkey unfetter a man

With but little expedition,
Which put him in mind of the long debatet

On the Slave-trade abolition.


He saw an old acquaintance

As he pass’d by a Methodist meeting ;She holds a consecrated key, I

And the Devil nods her a greeting.

She turn'd up her nose, and said, s

“ Avaunt ! my name's Religion,” And she look'd to Mr.- -||

And leer'd like a love-sick pigeon.


* Handcuff--1799. of And he laugh'd, for he thought of the long debates—ib. He met an old acquaintance

Just by the Methodist meeting ; She held a consecrated flag, &c.ib. § She tipp'd him the wink, then frown's and cried,-ib. || And turn'd to Mr.W-,-ib. (Wilberforce presumably.] XIV. He saw a certain minister

(A minister to his mind) Go up

into a certain House, With a majority behind.

The Devil quoted Genesis,

Like a very learned clerk,
How “Noah and his creeping things

Went up into the Ark.”


He took from the

poor, And he gave to the rich, And he shook hands with a Scotchman,

For he was not afraid of the



General- -'s burning face

He saw with consternation,
And back to hell his way did he take,
For the Devil thought by a slight mistake

It was General Conflagration.*

* If any one should ask who General- meant, the 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.




THE Devil believes that the Lord will come,

Stealing a march without beat of drum, 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

soul stirs For the dead men's heads have slipt under their


Ho ! ho ! brother Bard, in our churchyard †
Both beds and bolsters are soft and green;

* This jeu d'esprit originally appeared in The Morning Post, December 4, 1800, under the title of “ The Two Round Spaces, a Skeltoniad." Two different versions of it were resuscitated in Fraser's Magazine, February and May, 1833, a circumstance to which we probably owe its inclusion in the edition of 1834, prefaced by the following note:

“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 the hope that they will be taken, as assuredly they were composed, in mere sport.”

+ The “brother bard” addressed was presumably Wordsworth, and the “churchyard " that of Grasmere. It was the sight of Mr. (afterwards Sir James) Mackintosh in that churchyard that is said to have suggested the lines.-ED.

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Save one alone, and that's of stone,

And under it lies a Counsellor keen. 'Twould be a square tomb, if it were not too long, And 'tis fenced round with irons sharp, spearlike

and strong. *

This fellow from Aberdeen hither did skip
With a waxy face and a blubber lip,
And a black tooth in front to show in part
What was the colour of his whole heart.

This Counsellor sweet,
This Scotchman complete,
(The Devil scotch him for a snake !)
I trust he lies in his

grave awake.

On the sixth of January,
When all around is white with snow
As a Cheshire yeoman's dairy;

Brother Bard, ho! ho ! believe it, or no,
On that stone tomb to you I'll show
[After sunset, and before cock-crow,]

Two round spaces void of snow. †
I swear by our Knight and his forefathers' souls,
That in size and shape they are just like the holes

In the house of privity
Of that ancient family.

* This tomb would be square, if it were not too long ; And 'tis rail'd round with iron, tall, spear-like, and strong.

1800. + Clear of snow.-10. * In the large house of privity-16.


On those two places void of snow
There have sat in the night for an hour or so,
Before sunrise, and after cock-crow,
(He kicking his heels, she cursing her corns,
All to the tune of the wind in their horns),

The Devil and his Grannam,

With a snow-blast to fan 'em ;f Expecting and hoping the trumpet to blow; For they are cock-sure of the fellow below!




NOx, long fed with musty hay,

And work'd with yoke and chain,
Was turn'd out s on an April day,
When fields are in their best array,
And growing grasses sparkle gay

At once with Sun and rain.


The grass was fine, the Sun was bright:

With truth I may aver it;

* On these two spaces clear of snow—1800. t With the snow-drift to fan 'em-Ib.

I Printed in the The Morning Post, July 30, 1798. Reprinted in the second volume of The Annual Anthology and in Sibylline Leaves.

§ Was loosen'd-1798.

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