Lewesdon Hill, with other poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

I am not of their mind who say
The World degenerates every day;
Nor like to hear a churl exclaim,
In rapture at Queen Bess's name,
And cry, “What happy times were those
“When Ladies with the sun uprose,
“And for their breakfast did not fear
“To eat roast-beef and drink strong-beer!
“Then buxom health and sprightly grace
“Enliven'd every blooming face,

“Blooming with roses all its own;
“And rouge, tea, vapours, were unknown.”

Nature, still changing, still the same,
Hath so contrived this worldly frame,
That every age shall duly share
The good or ill that flows from Her.
Thus we, a spleenful race, are free
From magic and from sorcery;
While those who lived with good Queen Bess
(As they that know the truth confess)
Tho' Spleen and Vapours there were none,
Had Imps and Witches many a one;

And he who, 'cause he has not seen,
Will not believe, hath ne'er, I ween,
With due attention mused upon
Thy page, O British Solomon!

Thus far in preface—Now I'll tell
How Spleen arose, when Witchcraft fell.
By vengeful laws the Wizard brood
Long harass'd and at last subdued,
Their black Familiars all repair
Before the throne of Lucifer,
With sad petitions, setting forth
Their many grievances on earth,

What torments they were doom'd to bear
While tending on their Witches there:
Some drown'd, to prove their innocence,
Or, scaping, hang'd on that pretence;
Some burnt within their steeple hats,
Some nine times murder'd in their Cats:
Brief, they petition'd to enjoy
Some less adventurous employ,
Since witchcraft now was thought so common
They were not safe in an old woman.

Their suit was granted—up they came
New-liveried in sulphur flame,

With licence thro' the realm to range;
But, with their pow'r, their name they change.
Magic no longer now is seen,
And what was Witchcraft once, is Spleen:
Yet still they most delight to vex,
As first they did, the female sex;
And still, like an old witch's charm,
They tease, but have no power to harm.

Tho' Doctors otherwise have told,
The tale is true that I unfold:
And with my system suits the name,
For Spleen and Vapours are the same;

And all the country people know
That these, ascending from below,
Are Devils of peculiar hue,
And from their colour call them Blue.