1. The Devil now knew his proper cue.-- Soon as he read the ode, he drove To his friend Lord MacMurderchouse's, 655 A man of interest in both houses, And said:--'For money or for love, 2. 'Pray find some cure or sinecure; To feed from the superfluous taxes A friend of ours--a poet--fewer 660 Have fluttered tamer to the lure Than he.' His lordship stands and racks his 3. Stupid brains, while one might count As many beads as he had boroughs,-- At length replies; from his mean front, 665 Like one who rubs out an account, Smoothing away the unmeaning furrows: 4. 'It happens fortunately, dear Sir, I can. I hope I need require No pledge from you, that he will stir 670 In our affairs;--like Oliver. That he'll be worthy of his hire.' 5. These words exchanged, the news sent off To Peter, home the Devil hied,-- Took to his bed; he had no cough, 675 No doctor,--meat and drink enough.-- Yet that same night he died. 6. The Devil's corpse was leaded down; His decent heirs enjoyed his pelf, Mourning-coaches, many a one, 680 Followed his hearse along the town:-- Where was the Devil himself? 7. When Peter heard of his promotion, His eyes grew like two stars for bliss: There was a bow of sleek devotion 685 Engendering in his back; each motion Seemed a Lord's shoe to kiss. 8. He hired a house, bought plate, and made A genteel drive up to his door, With sifted gravel neatly laid,-- 690 As if defying all who said, Peter was ever poor. 9. But a disease soon struck into The very life and soul of Peter-- He walked about--slept--had the hue 695 Of health upon his cheeks--and few Dug better--none a heartier eater. 10. And yet a strange and horrid curse Clung upon Peter, night and day; Month after month the thing grew worse, 700 And deadlier than in this my verse I can find strength to say. 11. Peter was dull--he was at first Dull--oh, so dull--so very dull! Whether he talked, wrote, or rehearsed-- 705 Still with this dulness was he cursed-- Dull--beyond all conception--dull. 12. No one could read his books--no mortal, But a few natural friends, would hear him; The parson came not near his portal; 710 His state was like that of the immortal Described by Swift--no man could bear him. 13. His sister, wife, and children yawned, With a long, slow, and drear ennui, All human patience far beyond; 715 Their hopes of Heaven each would have pawned, Anywhere else to be.