XXIII.

All are damned--they breathe an air, Thick, infected, joy-dispelling: Each pursues what seems most fair, Mining like moles, through mind, and there Scoop palace-caverns vast, where Care In thronèd state is ever dwelling.

PART THE FOURTH.

_Sin._

Lo, Peter in Hell's Grosvenor Square, A footman in the Devil's service! And the misjudging world would swear That every man in service there To virtue would prefer vice.

But Peter, though now damned, was not What Peter was before damnation. Men oftentimes prepare a lot Which ere it finds them, is not what Suits with their genuine station.

All things that Peter saw and felt Had a peculiar aspect to him; And when they came within the belt Of his own nature, seemed to melt, Like cloud to cloud, into him.

And so the outward world uniting To that within him, he became Considerably uninviting To those who, meditation slighting, Were moulded in a different frame.