The false attendants that behind her press’d,
In vain disguised, the latent guilt confess’d:
Peace dropt her snow-white robe, and shudd’ring show’d
Ambition’s mantle reeking fresh with blood;
Presumptuous Folly stood in Reason’s form,
Pleased with the power to ruin,—not reform;
Philosophy, proud phantom, undismay’d,
With cold regard the ghastly train survey’d;
Saw Persecution gnash her iron teeth,
While Atheists preach’d the eternal sleep of death;