Lines Spoken by the Ghost of John Dennis at the Devil Tavern

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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.