Selected Poems (145 page)

Who long have ‘paved hell with their good intentions.’

XXXVIII

Michael began: ‘What wouldst thou with this man,

Now dead, and brought before the Lord? What ill

Hath he wrought since his mortal race began,

300

That thou canst claim him? Speak! and do thy will,

If it be just: if in this earthly span

He hath been greatly failing to fulfil

His duties as a king and mortal, say,

And he is thine; if not, let him have way.’

XXXIX

305

‘Michael!’ replied the Prince of Air, ‘even here,

Before the Gate of him thou servest, must

I claim my subject: and will make appear

That as he was my worshipper in dust,

So shall he be in spirit, although dear

310

To thee and thine, because nor wine nor lust

Were of his weaknesses; yet on the throne

He reign’d o’er millions to serve me alone.

XL

‘Look to
our
earth, or rather
mine
; it was,

Once, more
thy master’s: but I triumph not

315

In this poor planet’s conquest; nor, alas!

Need he thou servest envy me my lot:

With all the myriads of bright worlds which pass

In worship round him, he may have forgot

Yon weak creation of such paltry things:

320

I think few worth damnation save their kings, –

XLI

‘And these but as a kind of quit-rent, to

Assert my right as lord; and even had

I such an inclination, ’twere (as you

Well know) superfluous: they are grown so bad,

325

That hell has nothing better left to do

Than leave them to themselves: so much more mad

And evil by their own internal curse,

Heaven cannot make them better, nor I worse.

XLII

‘Look to the earth, I said, and say again:

330

When this old, blind, mad, helpless, weak, poor worm

Began in youth’s first bloom and flush to reign,

The world and he both wore a different form,

And much of earth and all the watery plain

Of ocean call’d him king: through many a storm

335

His isles had floated on the abyss of time;

For the rough virtues chose them for their clime.

XLIII

‘He came to his sceptre young; he leaves it old:

Look to the state in which he found his realm,

And left it; and his annals too behold,

340

How to a minion first he gave the helm;

How grew upon his heart a thirst for gold,

The beggar’s vice, which can but overwhelm

The meanest hearts; and for the rest, but glance

Thine eye along America and France.

XLIV

345

‘ ’Tis true, he was a tool from first to last

(I have the workmen safe); but as a tool

So let him be consumed. From out the past

Of ages, since mankind have known the rule

Of monarchs — from the bloody rolls amass’d

350

Of sin and slaughter – from the Cæsars’ school,

Take the worst pupil; and produce a reign

More drench’d with gore, more cumber’d with the slain.

XLV

‘He ever warr’d with freedom and the free:

Nations as men, home subjects, foreign foes,

355

So that they utter’d the word “Liberty!”

Found George the Third their first opponent. Whose

History was ever stain’d as his will be

With national and individual woes?

I grant his household abstinence; I grant

360

His neutral virtues, which most monarchs want;

XLVI

‘I know he was a constant consort; own

He was a decent sire, and middling lord.

All this is much, and most upon a throne;

As temperance, if at Apicius’ board,

365

Is more than at an anchorite’s supper shown.

I grant him all the kindest can accord;

And this was well for him, but not for those

Millions who found him what oppression chose.

XLVII

‘The New World shook him off; the Old yet groans

370

Beneath what he and his prepared, if not

Completed: he leaves heirs on many thrones

To all his vices, without what begot

Compassion for him – his tame virtues; drones

Who sleep, or despots who have now forgot

375

A lesson which shall be re-taught them, wake

Upon the thrones of earth; but let them quake!

XLVIII

‘Five millions of the primitive, who hold

The faith which makes ye great on earth, implored

A
part
of that vast
all
they held of old, —

380

Freedom to worship – not alone your Lord,

Michael, but you, and you, Saint Peter! Cold

Must be your souls, if you have not abhorr’d

The foe to catholic participation

In all the license of a Christian nation.

XLIX

385

‘True! he allow’d them to pray God; but as

A consequence of prayer, refused the law

Which would have placed them upon the same base

With those who did not hold the saints in awe.’

But here Saint Peter started from his place,

390

And cried, ‘You may the prisoner withdraw:

Ere heaven shall ope her portals to this Guelph,

While I am guard, may I be damn’d myself!

L

‘Sooner will I with Cerberus exchange

My office (and
his
is no sinecure)

395

Than see this royal Bedlam bigot range

The azure fields of heaven, of that be sure!’

‘Saint!’ replied Satan, ‘you do well to avenge

The wrongs he made your satellites endure

And if to this exchange you should be given,

400

I’ll try to coax
our
Cerberus up to heaven.’

LI

Here Michael interposed: ‘Good saint! and devil!

Pray, not so fast; you both outrun discretion.

Saint Peter! you were wont to be more civil:

Satan! excuse this warmth of his expression,

405

And condescension to the vulgar’s level:

Even saints sometimes forget themselves in session.

Have you got more to say?’ – ‘No. ‘ – ’If you please,

I’ll trouble you to call your witnesses.’

LII

Then Satan turn’d and waved his swarthy hand,

410

Which stirr’d with its electric qualities

Clouds farther off than we can understand,

Although we find him sometimes in our skies;

Infernal thunder shook both sea and land

In all the planets, and hell’s batteries

415

Let off the artillery, which Milton mentions

As one of Satan’s most sublime inventions.

LIII

This was a signal unto such damn’d souls

As have the privilege of their damnation

Extended far beyond the mere controls

420

Of worlds past, present, or to come; no station

Is theirs particularly in the rolls

Of hell assign’d; but where their inclination

Or business carries them in search of game,

They may range freely – being damn’d the same.

LIV

425

They are proud of this — as very well they may,

It being a sort of knighthood, or gilt key

Stuck in their loins; or like to an ‘entré’

Up the back stairs, or such free-masonry.

I borrow my comparisons from clay,

430

Being clay myself. Let not those spirits be

Offended with such base low likenesses;

We know their posts are nobler far than these.

LV

When the great signal ran from heaven to hell —

About ten million times the distance reckon’d

435

From our sun to its earth, as we can tell

How much time it takes up, even to a second,

For every ray that travels to dispel

The fogs of London, through which, dimly beacon’d,

The weathercocks are gilt some thrice a year,

440

If that the
summer
is not too severe: –

LVI