圣彼得坐在天国的大门旁，他的钥匙生锈了，锁也迟钝了。倒不是说这地方满了人，但自从高卢时代起，"八八"恶魔们就有了更大更强的力量，就像他们说的，"合力"在海上?这吸引了大多数灵魂的另一种方式。天使们都唱着跑调的歌，嗓子嘶哑，因为他们无事可做，除了给太阳和月亮上发条，或者控制一两颗逃逸的年轻恒星，或者是一颗彗星的野马驹，它很快就冲出了空灵的蓝色的界限，用它那顽皮的尾巴把某个行星分开，就像船有时被一条放荡的鲸鱼划破一样。三守护天使在高处隐退，发现他们的任务在下面无人照料;地上的事，除了记录天使的黑局，在天上什么也没有;的确，他发现罪恶和不幸的事实如此迅速地增加，以至于他已经用羽毛剥掉了他的两只翅膀，却还没有遭受人类的苦难。四、他的事业近年来发展得如此迅速，以致他不得不——毫无疑问地违背了他的意愿——(就像那些尘世的小天使一样——)寻找一些资源来调转方向，请求天上的同伴们帮助他，以免他被越来越多的要求他讲话的人弄得筋疲力尽:6位天使和12位圣徒被任命为他的助手。V这是一块漂亮的木板?至少在天堂是这样; And yet they had even then enough to do, So many conqueror's 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 Wrom: ZAAFXISHJEXXIMQZUIVO 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 reveration.) VII Let's skip a few short years of hollow peace, 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; 'Twill one day finish: meantime they increase, 'With seven heads and ten horns,' and all in front, Like Saint John's foretold beast; but ours are born Less formidable in the head than horn. VIII In the first year of freedom's second dawn Died George the Third; although no tyrant, one Who shielded tyrants, till each sense withdrawn Left him nor mental nor external sun: A better farmer ne'er brush'd dew from lawn, A worse king never left a realm undone! He died ? but left his subjects still behind, One half as mad ? and t'other no less blind. IX He died! his death made no great stir on earth: His burial made some pomp; there was profusion Of velvet, gilding, brass, and no great dearth Of aught but tears ? save those shed by collusion. For these things may be bought at their true worth; Of elegy there was the due infusion ? Bought also; and the torches, cloaks, and banners, Heralds, and relics of old Gothic manners, X Form'd a sepulchral melo-drame. Of all The fools who flack's to swell or see the show, Who cared about the corpse? The funeral Made the attraction, and the black the woe. There throbbed not there a thought which pierced the pall; And when the gorgeous coffin was laid low, It seamed the mockery of hell to fold The rottenness of eighty years in gold. XI So mix his body with the dust! It might Return to what it must far sooner, were The natural compound left alone to fight Its way back into earth, and fire, and air; But the unnatural balsams merely blight What nature made him at his birth, as bare As the mere million's base unmarried clay ? Yet all his spices but prolong decay. XII He's dead ? and upper earth with him has done; He's buried; save the undertaker's bill, Or lapidary scrawl, the world is gone For him, unless he left a German will: But where's the proctor who will ask his son? In whom his qualities are reigning still, Except that household virtue, most uncommon, Of constancy to a bad, ugly woman. XIII 'God save the king!' It is a large economy In God to save the like; but if he will Be saving, all the better; for not one am I Of those who think damnation better still: I hardly know too if no