DOUBLE DAMNATION.

1.  The Devil now knew his proper cue.—­ Soon as he read the ode, he drove To his friend Lord MacMurderchouse’s, 655 A man of interest in both houses, And said:—­’For money or for love,

2.  ’Pray find some cure or sinecure; To feed from the superfluous taxes A friend of ours—­a poet—­fewer 660 Have fluttered tamer to the lure Than he.’  His lordship stands and racks his

3.  Stupid brains, while one might count As many beads as he had boroughs,—­ At length replies; from his mean front, 665 Like one who rubs out an account, Smoothing away the unmeaning furrows: 

4.  ’It happens fortunately, dear Sir, I can.  I hope I need require No pledge from you, that he will stir 670 In our affairs;—­like Oliver.  That he’ll be worthy of his hire.’

5.  These words exchanged, the news sent off To Peter, home the Devil hied,—­ Took to his bed; he had no cough, 675 No doctor,—­meat and drink enough.—­ Yet that same night he died.

6.  The Devil’s corpse was leaded down; His decent heirs enjoyed his pelf, Mourning-coaches, many a one, 680 Followed his hearse along the town:—­ Where was the Devil himself?

7.  When Peter heard of his promotion, His eyes grew like two stars for bliss:  There was a bow of sleek devotion 685 Engendering in his back; each motion Seemed a Lord’s shoe to kiss.

8.  He hired a house, bought plate, and made A genteel drive up to his door, With sifted gravel neatly laid,—­ 690 As if defying all who said, Peter was ever poor.

9.  But a disease soon struck into The very life and soul of Peter—­ He walked about—­slept—­had the hue 695 Of health upon his cheeks—­and few Dug better—­none a heartier eater.

10.  And yet a strange and horrid curse Clung upon Peter, night and day; Month after month the thing grew worse, 700 And deadlier than in this my verse I can find strength to say.

11.  Peter was dull—­he was at first Dull—­oh, so dull—­so very dull!  Whether he talked, wrote, or rehearsed—­ 705 Still with this dulness was he cursed—­ Dull—­beyond all conception—­dull.

12.  No one could read his books—­no mortal, But a few natural friends, would hear him; The parson came not near his portal; 710 His state was like that of the immortal Described by Swift—­no man could bear him.

13.  His sister, wife, and children yawned, With a long, slow, and drear ennui, All