There lay the buried god, and Time
Seem'd to decree eternity of lime;
But pity, like a dewdrop, gently prest
Almighty Veeshnoo's adamantine breast:
He, the preserver, ardent still
To do whate'er he says he will,
From South-hill urg'd his way,
To raise the drooping lord of day.
All earthly spells the busy one o'erpower'd;
He treats with men of all conditions,
Poets and players, tradesmen, and musicians;
Nay, even ventures
To attack the renters,
Old and new:
A list he gets
Of claims and debts,
And deems nought done while aught remains to do
Yamen beheld and wither'd at the sight;
Long had he aim'd the sunbeam to control,
For light was hateful to his soul:
"Go on," cried the hellish one, yellow with spite,
"Go on," cried the hellish one, yellow with spleen,
"Thy toils of the morning, like Ithaca's queen,
I'll toil to undo every night."
Ye sons of song, rejoice!
Veeshnoo has still'd the jarring elements,
The spheres hymn music;
Again the god of day
Peeps forth with trembling ray,
And pours at intervals a strain divine.
"I have an iron yet in the fire," cried Yamen;
"The vollied flame rides in my breath,
My blast is elemental death;
This hand shall tear their paper bonds to pieces;
Ingross your deeds, assignments, leases,
My breath shall every line erase,
Soon as I blow the blaze."
The lawyers are met at the Crown and Anchor,
And Yamen's visage grows blanker and blanker,
The lawyers are met at the Anchor and Crown,
And Yamen's cheek is a russety brown,
Veshnoo, now thy work proceeds;
The solicitor reads,
And, merit of merit!
Red wax and green ferret,
Are fix'd at the foot of the deeds!
Yamen beheld and shiver'd;
His finger and thumb were cramp'd;
His ear by the flea in't was bitten,
When he saw by the lawyer's clerk written,
"Sealed and delivered,"
Being first duly stamped.
"Now for my turn," the demon cries, and blows
A blast of sulphur from his mouth and nose;
Ah! bootless aim! the critic fiend,
Sagacious Yamen, judge of hell,
Is judged in his turn;
Parchment won't burn!
His schemes of vengeance are dissolv'd in air,
Parchment won't tear!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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