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 human patience far beyond; 715
Their hopes of Heaven each would have pawned,
Anywhere else to be.

14. 
But in his verse, and in his prose,
The essence of his dulness was
Concentred and compressed so close, 720
’Twould have made Guatimozin doze
On his red gridiron of brass.

15. 
A printer’s boy, folding those pages,
Fell slumbrously upon one side;
Like those famed Seven who slept three ages. 725
To wakeful frenzy’s vigil—­rages,
As opiates, were the same applied.

16. 
Even the Reviewers who were hired
To do the work of his reviewing,
With adamantine nerves, grew tired;—­ 730
Gaping and torpid they retired,
To dream of what they should be doing.

17. 
And worse and worse, the drowsy curse
Yawned in him, till it grew a pest—­
A wide contagious atmosphere, 735
Creeping like cold through all things near;
A power to infect and to infest.

18. 
His servant-maids and dogs grew dull;
His kitten, late a sportive elf;
The woods and lakes, so beautiful, 740
Of dim stupidity were full. 
All grew dull as Peter’s self.