 | Poems on Affairs of State |  |
The Ghost.
A Papist dy'd, as 'twas Jehovah's Will,And his poor Soul went trudging down to Hell!
Where, when he did arrive, just at the Entry,
He found a Mastive Devil standing Centry,
With flaming Eyes, and Face as black as Soot,
A Musqueteer with a great Cloven Foot:
And who goes there? I, a poor Papist Ghost,
That's come to dwell upon the Stygian Coast.
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For I must call the Captain of the Guard;
He gave me Orders to let none come in,
But only such as should have leave from him.
The Captain call'd, accordingly came forth,
A Devil, of Integrity and Worth;
VVho all in Noblest Scarlet being dress'd,
VVith a most delicate fine Embroider'd Vest,
He asks the Ghost with a great Voice, as loud
As mighty Thunder, breaking from a Cloud,
VVhat was the bus'ness? Sir, I am come to dwell,
If you will please to give me leave, in Hell.
Damn you, you whorson Dog, said he to him,
I love my Master, and you shan't come in;
For if above you eat your God, I fear,
Should you come in, youl'd eat the Devil here.
| Poems on Affairs of State | |