Lines Spoken by the Ghost of John Dennis at the Devil Tavern
From purling Streams & the Elysian Scene,
From Groves, that smile with never-fading Green
I reascend; in Atropos’ despight
Restored to Celadon, & upper light:
Ye gods, that sway the Regions under ground,
Reveal to mortal View your realms profound;
At his command admit the eye of Day;
When Celadon commands, what God can disobey?
Nor seeks he your Tartarean fires to know,
The house of Torture, & th’ Abyss of Woe;
But happy fields & Mansions free from Pain,
Gay Meads, & springing flowers best please the gentle Swain:
That little, naked, melancholy thing
My Soul, when first she tryed her flight to wing;
Began with speed new Regions to explore,
And blunder’d thro’ a narrow Postern door;
First most devoutly having said its Prayers,
It tumbled down a thousand pair of Stairs,
Thro’ Entries long, thro’ Cellars vast & deep,
Where ghostly Rats their habitations keep,
Where Spiders spread their Webs, & owlish Goblins sleep.
After so many Chances had befell,
It came into a mead of Asphodel:
Betwixt the Confines of the light & dark
It lies, of ’Lyzium the St. James’s Park:
Here Spirit-Beaux flutter along the Mall,
And Shadows in disguise scate o’er the Iced Canal:
Here groves embower’d, & more sequester’d Shades,
Frequented by the Ghosts of Ancient Maids,
Are seen to rise: the melancholy Scene
With gloomy haunts, & twilight walks between
Conceals the wayward band: here spend their time
Greensickness Girls, that died in youthful prime,
Virgins forlorn, all drest in Willow-green-i
With Queen Elizabeth and Nicolini.
More to reveal, or many words to use
Would tire alike your patience & my muse.
Believe, that never was so faithful found
Queen Proserpine to Pluto under ground,
Or Cleopatra to her Mark-Antony
As Orozmades to his Celadony.
P.S.
Lucrece for half a crown will show you fun,
But Mrs. Oldfield is become a Nun.
Nobles & Cits, Prince Pluto & his Spouse
Flock to the Ghost of Covent-Garden house:
Plays, which were hiss’d above, below revive;
When dead applauded, that were damn’d alive:
The People, as in life, still keep their Passions,
But differ something from the world in Fashions.
Queen Artemisia breakfasts on Bohea,
And Alexander wears a Ramilie.