And yet methought I saw, to them unseen,
Wan Ruin stalk behind, with haggard mien,
Expecting instant prey;—and with him came
The angry Fever, whose insatiate flame
Drinks up the pure and purple streams of Life;
And every Disease that harbours strife
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Next Melancholy came, with solemn pace;
A purple veil o'er-spread her moisten'd face.
And now she fix'd her eyes upon the ground;
Now with dejected air, she turn'd around,
As if to view the sad approaching Train,
Degraded by unfeeling Folly's chain.
Pale Science follow'd;—to the sky she bore
Her fasten'd looks, as eager to explore
Some great design; nor did she seem to hear
The cruel scoffings, and th' insulting sneer,
Of brazen Ignorance and her foul-mouth'd crew,
Who at the Holy Maid their venom threw.
Grave Wisdom, next, with wrinkled brow appear'd,
White was his head, and white his flowing beard.
By the right hand Religion's self he led;
Who, as she pass'd along, devoutly read
In that Celestial Book, whose sacred page
Shall pass unhurt through every distant Age.
Meek Resignation with her Mistress came,
And gentle Patience, and unsullied Fame:
Onward they went, nor fear'd the assailing cry
Of frontless Vice and barking Calumny.
I mourn'd the piteous fight, and curs'd the hour
When Folly first assum'd her fatal power:
And much I sorrow'd that she dare maintain
The shameful show of her fantastic reign.
But as I wip'd away the silent tears,
With rout and revelry the Queen appears.
On a gay car the painted Mischief rode,—
Her pride a Feather, and her grace a Nod.
A flaunting, party-colour'd vest she wore,
With many a glittering star bespangled o'er.
Upon her cap, in order, plac'd around,
The bells send forth an emblematic sound.
Her right-hand did a wooden sword embrace,
Known to the Chiefs of Pantomimic Race;
Whose magic powers, to please a silly Age,
She first encourag'd on the British Stage;
And, driving Sense and Reason to despair,
Her duteous Delegates continue there.
Her eyes no penetrating gleam betray'd,
Upon her face no gentle graces play'd.
The Harlot's smile,—the Ideot's vacant stare,
And Baby vehemence, were blended there.
An Ostrich drew the gilded weight along,
Whose harness'd plumage charm'd th' admiring Throng.
Methought I saw her from the car descend,
While her surrounding vot'ries lowly bend;
And, with loud, pealing bursts of laughter, own
Their Monarch seated on her Annual Throne.
And now, in crowds, press'd through the yielding doors,
High Lords, deep Statesmen, Dutchesses, and Whores;
All ranks and stations, Publicans and Peers,
Grooms, Lawyers, Fiddlers, Bawds, and Auctioneers;
Prudes and Coquettes, the Ugly and the Fair,
The Pert, the Prim, the Dull, the Debonnair;
The Weak, the Strong, the Humble and the Proud,
All help'd to form the motley, mingled Crowd.
With curious eye, attentive I survey'd
Each busy Figure of the Masquerade.
A Mask it might be call'd, tho', free from shame,
All shew'd their Faces, and each told his Name.
For Folly's presence spoils the attractive grace
That plays around the most bewitching face.
Where'er she reigns, beneath her magic sway
Each charm, each envied beauty melts away.
Where'er she governs, Wisdom will descry
In the fair form a foul deformity.
—There tottering Old Age essay'd to prance
With feeble feet, and join'd th' imperfect dance.
There supercilious Youth assum'd the air
And reverend grace which hoary Sages wear.
There I beheld full many a youthful Maid,
Like colts for sale to public view display'd,
Shew off their shapes and ply their happiest art,
While the old Mother acts the Jockey's part;
Who, well-instructed in the World's great School,
Knows how to trap the rich and noble Fool.
Bold Prostitution look'd with downcast eye,
And veil'd her painted cheeks with modesty;
While wedded Dames a bold demeanour wear,
And think their eyes resistless when they stare.
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