Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 4.djvu/530

488 Who found, indeed, the facts to multiply With such rapidity of vice and woe, That he had stripped off both his wings in quills. And yet was in arrear of human ills.

His business so augmented of late years, That he was forced, against his will, no doubt, (Just like those cherubs, earthly ministers,) For some resource to turn hunself about. And claim the help of his celestial peers, To aid him ere he should be quite worn out By the increased demand for his remarks: Six Angels and twelve Saints were named his clerks.

This was a handsome board—at least for Heaven; And yet they had even then enough to do, So many Conquerors' 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 besmeared with blood and dust. This by the way; 'tis not mine to record What Angels shrink from: even the very Devil On this occasion his own work abhorred, So surfeited with the infernal revel: Though he himself had sharpened every sword, It almost quenched his innate thirst of evil.