Thinking every tear a gem,

XIV

VI

Clothed with the Bible, as with light,
And the shadows of the night,
Like Sidmouth, next, Hypocrisy
On a crocodile rode by.

VII

And many more Destructions played
In this ghastly masquerade,

All disguised, even to the eyes,
Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.

VIII

Last came Anarchy: he rode
On a white horse, splashed with blood;
He was pale even to the lips,
Like Death in the Apocalypse.

IX

And he wore a kingly crown;

And in his grasp a sceptre shone;
On his brow this mark I saw-

"I AM GOD, AND KING, AND LAW!"

X

With a pace stately and fast, Over English land he past, Trampling to a mire of blood The adoring multitude.

XI

And a mighty troop around,
With their trampling shook the ground,
Waving each a bloody sword,

For the service of their Lord.

XII

And with glorious triumph, they Rode thro' England proud and gay, Drunk as with intoxication

Of the wine of desolation.

XIII

O'er fields and towns, from sea to sea,
Past the Pageant swift and free,
Tearing up, and trampling down;
Till they came to London town.

Felt his heart with terror sicken
Hearing the tempestuous cry
Of the triumph of Anarchy.

352