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THE

VISION OF JUDGMENT.

BY QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS.

SUGGESTED BY THE COMPOSITION SO ENTITLED BY THE AUTHOR OF « WAT TYLER.»

« A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel!
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. >>

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VISION OF JUDGMENT.

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I.

SAINT PETER Sat by the celestial gate,

His keys were rusty, and the lock was dull,
So little trouble had been given of låte ;i
Not that the place by any means was full,
But since the Gallic era «eighty-eight,
The devils had ta’en a longer, stronger pull,
And « a pull altogether, as they say

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At sea-which drew most souls another way,

The angels all were singing out of tune,
And hoarse with having little else to do,
Excepting to wind up the sun and moon,

Or curb a runaway young star or two,
Or wild colt of a comet, which too soona i vet
Broke out of bounds o'er the ethereal blue,

Splitting some planet with its playful tail,

As boats are sometimes by a wanton whale.
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The guardian seraphs had retired on high,
Finding their charges past all care below;
Terrestrial business fill'd nought in the sky
Save the recording angel's black bureau;
Who found, indeed, the facts to multiply
With such rapidity of vice and woe,

That he had stripp'd off both his wings in quills,
And yet was in arrear of human ills,

T

IV.

His business so augmented of late years,
That he was forced, against his will, no doubt
(Just like those cherubs, earthly ministers),
For some resource to turn himself about,
And claim the help of his celestial peers,

To aid him ere he should be quite worn out
By the increased demand for his remarks;

Six angels and twelve saints were named his clerks.

V.

This was a handsome board—at least for heaven;
And yet they had even then enough to do,
So many conquerors' cars were daily driven,
So many kingdoms fitted up anew;

Each day, too, slew its thousands six or seven,
Till at the crowning carnage, Waterloo,
They threw their pens down in divine disgust-
The page was so besmear'd with blood and dust.

VI.

This by the way; 'tis not mine to record

What angels shrink from: even the very devil On this occasion his own work abhorr❜d, So surfeited with the infernal revel; Though he himself had sharpen'd every sword, It almost quench'd his innate thirst of evil. (Here Satan's sole good work deserves insertion → 'Tis, that he has both generals in reversion.)

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Let's skip a few short years of hollow peace,

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Which peopled earth no better, hell as wont, And heaven none-they form the tyrant's lease, With nothing but new names subscribed upon 't;

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