Peter Bells, one, two and three,
 O’er the wide world wandering be.—­
 First, the antenatal Peter,
 Wrapped in weeds of the same metre,
 The so-long-predestined raiment 5
 Clothed in which to walk his way meant
 The second Peter; whose ambition
 Is to link the proposition,
 As the mean of two extremes—­
 (This was learned from Aldric’s themes) 10
 Shielding from the guilt of schism
 The orthodoxal syllogism;
 The First Peter—­he who was
 Like the shadow in the glass
 Of the second, yet unripe, 15
 His substantial antitype.—­

 Then came Peter Bell the Second,
 Who henceforward must be reckoned
 The body of a double soul,
 And that portion of the whole 20
 Without which the rest would seem
 Ends of a disjointed dream.—­
 And the Third is he who has
 O’er the grave been forced to pass
 To the other side, which is,—­ 25
 Go and try else,—­just like this.

 Peter Bell the First was Peter
 Smugger, milder, softer, neater,
 Like the soul before it is
 Born from that world into this. 30
 The next Peter Bell was he,
 Predevote, like you and me,
 To good or evil as may come;
 His was the severer doom,—­
 For he was an evil Cotter, 35
 And a polygamic Potter. 
 And the last is Peter Bell,
 Damned since our first parents fell,
 Damned eternally to Hell—­
 Surely he deserves it well! 40

PART 1.

 Death.

1.  And Peter Bell, when he had been With fresh-imported Hell-fire warmed, Grew serious—­from his dress and mien ’Twas very plainly to be seen Peter was quite reformed. 5

2.  His eyes turned up, his mouth turned down; His accent caught a nasal twang; He oiled his hair; there might be heard The grace of God in every word Which Peter said or sang. 10

3.  But Peter now grew old, and had An ill no doctor could unravel:  His torments almost drove him mad;—­ Some said it was a fever bad—­ Some swore it was the gravel. 15

4.  His holy friends then came about, And with long preaching and persuasion Convinced the patient that, without The smallest shadow of a doubt, He was predestined to damnation. 20

5.  They said—­’Thy name is Peter Bell; Thy skin is of a brimstone hue; Alive or dead—­ay, sick or well—­ The one God made to rhyme with hell; The other,