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Frowning, preaching—such a riot!
Cheating his own heart of quiet.
Dinners convivial and political-
Breakfasts professional and critical ;
That one would furnish forth ten dinners,
Should make some losers, and some winners ;
Conventicles, and drawing-rooms;
Churches, masquerades, and tombs.
And this is Hell: and in this smother
All are damnable and damned; Each one, damning, damns the other; They are damned by one another,
By none other are they damned.
'Tis a lie to say “God damns."
Where was Heaven's Attorney General
They are mines of poisonous mineral.
Cursed; and lawyers damn their souls
To the auction of a fee;
To taunt and starve and trample on
To take—not means for being blessed —
Squeeze less than they before possessed :
And some few, like we know who,
Damned—but God alone knows why-
Each man (be he sound or no)
The oppressor and the oppressed ;
Thick, infected, joy-dispelling;
In throned state is ever dwelling.
Lo, Peter in Hell's Grosvenor Square,
A footman in the Devil's service! And the misjudging world would swear That every man in service there
To virtue would prefer vice.
What Peter was before damnation.
Suits with their genuine station.
Had a peculiar aspect to him;
Like cloud to cloud, into him.
And so, the outward world uniting
To that within him, he became
Were moulded in a different frame.
v. And he scorned them, and they scorned him:
And he scorned all they did ; and they
Drinking, lying, swearing, play.
He had a mind which was somehow
At once circumference and centre
As a pint-pot;-he never could
Than that wherein he stood.
And new-created all he saw
An apprehension clear, intense,
To be a kind of moral eunuch:
The closest all-concealing tunic.
She laughed the while with an arch smile,
And kissed him with a sister's kiss,
Tempt not again my deepest bliss.
XIII. “ 'Tis you are cold; for I, not coy,
Yield love for love, frank, warm, and true ;
And Burns, a Scottish peasant boy-
Anzi rinnuova come fa la luna : So thought Boccaccio, whose sweet words might cure a Male prude, like you, from what you now endure, a
Low-tide in soul, like a stagnant laguna.”
And smoothed his spacious forehead down
And in his dream sate down.
A leaden-witted thief-just huddled
With mind and heart and fancy muddled.
The Spirit of Evil well may be :
And calls lust “luxury.”
Round whom collect, at a fixed era,
And best East Indian madeira.
It was his fancy to invite
Men of science, wit, and learning,
Had set those spirits burning.