Page:The Works of Lord Byron (ed. Coleridge, Prothero) - Volume 4.djvu/582

540 Skin all sallow, flesh all sodden,

Form the Devil would frighten G—d in.

Is't a Corpse stuck up for show,

Galvanized at times to go?

With the Scripture has't connection,

New proof of the Resurrection?

Vampire, Ghost, or Goul (sic), what is it?

I would walk ten miles to miss it.

ANSWER.

passengers arrest one,

To demand the same free question.

Shorter's my reply and franker,—

That's the Bard, and Beau, and Banker:

Yet, if you could bring about

Just to turn him inside out,

Satan's self would seem less sooty,

And his present aspect—Beauty.

Mark that (as he masks the bilious)

Air so softly supercilious,

Chastened bow, and mock humility,

Almost sickened to Servility:

Hear his tone (which is to talking

That which creeping is to walking—

Now on all fours, now on tiptoe):

Hear the tales he lends his lip to—

Little hints of heavy scandals—

Every friend by turns he handles:

All that women or that men do

Glides forth in an inuendo (sic)—

Clothed in odds and ends of humour,

Herald of each paltry rumour—