The Devil’s Walk is a satirical attack and criticism of the British government. The poem was modelled on The Devil’s Thoughts (1799) by Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Robert Southey.
In 1812 Shelley wished to protest against the actions of the British government and the harsh economic conditions in the country at the time. This poem appeared shortly after the food riots in Devon, where Shelley was living. Prices for grain were at their highest level in 1812, with severe shortages of food and prices being heavily inflated. In the work, Shelley attacks “a brainless King”, the “princely paunch” and “each brawny haunch” of the Prince Regent. The members of both houses of Parliament and the Church are also blamed with scorn.
How the poem first appeared in print
THE DEVIL’S WALK.
A BALLAD.
(Published as a broadside by Shelley, 1812.)
1.
Once, early in the morning, Beelzebub arose,
With care his sweet person adorning,
He put on his Sunday clothes.
2.
He drew on a boot to hide his hoof, 5
He drew on a glove to hide his claw,
His horns were concealed by a Bras Chapeau,
And the Devil went forth as natty a Beau
As Bond-street ever saw.
3.
He sate him down, in London town, 10
Before earth’s morning ray;
With a favourite imp he began to chat,
On religion, and scandal, this and that,
Until the dawn of day.
4.
And then to St. James’s Court he went, 15
And St. Paul’s Church he took on his way;
He was mighty thick with every Saint,
Though they were formal and he was gay.
5.
The Devil was an agriculturist,
And as bad weeds quickly grow, 20
In looking over his farm, I wist,
He wouldn’t find cause for woe.
6.
He peeped in each hole, to each chamber stole,
His promising live-stock to view;
Grinning applause, he just showed them his claws, 25
And they shrunk with affright from his ugly sight,
Whose work they delighted to do.
7.
Satan poked his red nose into crannies so small
One would think that the innocents fair,
Poor lambkins! were just doing nothing at all 30
But settling some dress or arranging some ball,
But the Devil saw deeper there.
8.
A Priest, at whose elbow the Devil during prayer
Sate familiarly, side by side,
Declared that, if the Tempter were there, 35
His presence he would not abide.
Ah! ah! thought Old Nick, that’s a very stale trick,
For without the Devil, O favourite of Evil,
In your carriage you would not ride.
9.
Satan next saw a brainless King, 40
Whose house was as hot as his own;
Many Imps in attendance were there on the wing,
They flapped the pennon and twisted the sting,
Close by the very Throne.
10.
Ah! ah! thought Satan, the pasture is good, 45
My Cattle will here thrive better than others;
They dine on news of human blood,
They sup on the groans of the dying and dead,
And supperless never will go to bed;
Which will make them fat as their brothers. 50
11.
Fat as the Fiends that feed on blood,
Fresh and warm from the fields of Spain,
Where Ruin ploughs her gory way,
Where the shoots of earth are nipped in the bud,
Where Hell is the Victor’s prey, 55
Its glory the meed of the slain.
12.
Fat — as the Death-birds on Erin’s shore,
That glutted themselves in her dearest gore,
And flitted round Castlereagh,
When they snatched the Patriot’s heart, that HIS grasp 60
Had torn from its widow’s maniac clasp,
— And fled at the dawn of day.
13.
Fat — as the Reptiles of the tomb,
That riot in corruption’s spoil,
That fret their little hour in gloom, 65
And creep, and live the while.
14.
Fat as that Prince’s maudlin brain,
Which, addled by some gilded toy,
Tired, gives his sweetmeat, and again
Cries for it, like a humoured boy. 70
15.
For he is fat, — his waistcoat gay,
When strained upon a levee day,
Scarce meets across his princely paunch;
And pantaloons are like half-moons
Upon each brawny haunch. 75
16.
How vast his stock of calf! when plenty
Had filled his empty head and heart,
Enough to satiate foplings twenty,
Could make his pantaloon seams start.
17.
The Devil (who sometimes is called Nature), 80
For men of power provides thus well,
Whilst every change and every feature,
Their great original can tell.
18.
Satan saw a lawyer a viper slay,
That crawled up the leg of his table, 85
It reminded him most marvellously
Of the story of Cain and Abel.
19.
The wealthy yeoman, as he wanders
His fertile fields among,
And on his thriving cattle ponders, 90
Counts his sure gains, and hums a song;
Thus did the Devil, through earth walking,
Hum low a hellish song.
20.
For they thrive well whose garb of gore
Is Satan’s choicest livery, 95
And they thrive well who from the poor
Have snatched the bread of penury,
And heap the houseless wanderer’s store
On the rank pile of luxury.
21.
The Bishops thrive, though they are big; 100
The Lawyers thrive, though they are thin;
For every gown, and every wig,
Hides the safe thrift of Hell within.
22.
Thus pigs were never counted clean,
Although they dine on finest corn; 105
And cormorants are sin-like lean,
Although they eat from night to morn.
23.
Oh! why is the Father of Hell in such glee,
As he grins from ear to ear?
Why does he doff his clothes joyfully, 110
As he skips, and prances, and flaps his wing,
As he sidles, leers, and twirls his sting,
And dares, as he is, to appear?
24.
A statesman passed — alone to him,
The Devil dare his whole shape uncover, 115
To show each feature, every limb,
Secure of an unchanging lover.
25.
At this known sign, a welcome sight,
The watchful demons sought their King,
And every Fiend of the Stygian night, 120
Was in an instant on the wing.
26.
Pale Loyalty, his guilt-steeled brow,
With wreaths of gory laurel crowned:
The hell-hounds, Murder, Want and Woe,
Forever hungering, flocked around; 125
From Spain had Satan sought their food,
‘Twas human woe and human blood!
27.
Hark! the earthquake’s crash I hear, —
Kings turn pale, and Conquerors start,
Ruffians tremble in their fear, 130
For their Satan doth depart.
28.
This day Fiends give to revelry
To celebrate their King’s return,
And with delight its Sire to see
Hell’s adamantine limits burn. 135
29.
But were the Devil’s sight as keen
As Reason’s penetrating eye,
His sulphurous Majesty I ween,
Would find but little cause for joy.
30.
For the sons of Reason see 140
That, ere fate consume the Pole,
The false Tyrant’s cheek shall be
Bloodless as his coward soul.
QUEEN MAB
A PHILOSOPHICAL POEM WITH NOTES
Originally published in 1813, this long poem is formed of nine cantos and complemented with seventeen notes. After substantial revision, a second edition of a portion of the text was published in 1816 under the title The Daemon of the World. This poem serves as a foundation of the poet’s theory of revolution, depicting a two-pronged revolt involving necessary changes, brought on by both nature and the virtue of mankind.
Shelley used William Godwin’s idea of “necessity” and combined it with his own idea of ever-changing nature, to establish the theory that contemporary evils inflicting society would break up over time. The poem is written in the form of a fairy tale that presents a future vision of a utopia on earth. Queen Mab, a fairy famously referred to by Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet, descends in a chariot to a dwelling where Ianthe is sleeping on a couch. Queen Mab detaches Ianthe’s spirit or soul from her sleeping body and transports it on a celestial tour to her palace at the edge of the universe.
A page of the poem’s original manuscript
CONTENTS
QUEEN MAB.
NOTES ON QUEEN MAB.
FALSEHOOD AND VICE.
A DIALOGUE.
NOTE ON QUEEN MAB, BY MRS. SHELLEY.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE ‘EXAMINER.’
The original title page
QUEEN MAB.
A PHILOSOPHICAL POEM, WITH NOTES.
(An edition (250 copies) of “Queen Mab” was printed at London in the summer of 1813 by Shelley himself, whose name, as author and printer, appears on the title-page (see “Bibliographical List”). Of this edition about seventy copies were privately distributed. Sections 1, 2, 8, and 9 were afterwards rehandled, and the intermediate sections here and there revised and altered; and of this new text sections 1 and 2 were published by Shelley in the “Alastor” volume of 1816, under the title, “The Daemon of the World”. The remainder lay unpublished till 1876, when sections 8 and 9 were printed by Mr. H. Buxton Forman, C.B., from a printed copy of “Queen Mab” with Shelley’s manuscript corrections. See “The Shelley Library”, pages 36-44, for a description of this copy, which is in Mr. Forman’s possession. Sources of the text are (1) the editio princeps of 1813; (2) text (with some omissions) in the “Poetical Works” of 1839, edited by Mrs. Shelley; (3) text (one line only wanting) in the 2nd edition of the “Poetical Works”, 1839 (same editor).
“Queen Mab” was probably written during the year 1812 — it is first heard of at Lynmouth, August 18, 1812 (“Shelley Memorials”, page 39) — but the text may be assumed to include earlier material.)
ECRASEZ L’INFAME! — Correspondance de Voltaire.
Avia Pieridum peragro loca, nullius ante
Trita solo; juvat integros accedere fonteis;
Atque haurire: juvatque novos decerpere flores.
…
Unde prius nulli velarint tempora musae.
Primum quod magnis doceo de rebus; et arctis
Religionum animos nodis exsolvere pergo. — Lucret. lib. 4.
Dos pon sto, kai kosmon kineso. — Archimedes.
TO HARRIET *****.
Whose is the love that gleaming through the world,
Wards off the poisonous arrow of its scorn?
Whose is the warm and partial praise,
Virtue’s most sweet reward?
Beneath whose looks did my reviving soul 5
Riper in truth and virtuous daring grow?
Whose eyes have I gazed fondly on,
And loved mankind the more?
HARRIET! on thine: — thou wert my purer mind;
Thou wert the inspiration of my song; 10
Thine are these early wilding flowers,
Though garlanded by me.
Then press into thy breast this pledge of love;
And know, though time may change and years may roll,
Each floweret gathered in my heart 15
It consecrates to thine.
QUEEN MAB.
1.
How wonderful is Death,
Death and his brother Sleep!
One, pale as yonder waning moon
With lips of lurid blue;
The other, rosy as the morn 5
When throned on ocean’s wave
It blushes o’er the world:
Yet both so passing wonderful!
Hath then the gloomy Power
Whose reign is in the tainted sepulchres 10
Seized on her sinless soul?
Must then that peerless form
Which love and admiration cannot view
Without a beating heart, those azure veins
Which steal like streams along a field of snow, 15
That lovely outline, which is fair
As breathing marble, perish?
Must putrefaction’s breath
Leave nothing of this heavenly sight
But loathsomeness and ruin? 20
Spare nothing but a gloomy theme,
On which the lightest heart might moralize?
Or is it only a sweet slumber
Stealing o’er sensation,
Which the breath of roseate morning 25
Chaseth into darkness?
Will Ianthe wake again,
And give that faithful bosom joy
Whose sleepless spirit waits to catch
Light, life and rapture from her smile? 30
Yes! she will wake again,
Although her glowing limbs are motionless,
And silent those sweet lips,
Once breathing eloquence,
That might have soothed a tiger’s rage, 35
Or thawed the cold heart of a conqueror.
Her dewy eyes are closed,
And on their lids, whose texture fine
Scarce hides the dark blue orbs beneath,
The baby Sleep is pillowed: 40
Her golden tresses shade
The bosom’s stainless pride,
Curling like tendrils of the parasite
Around a marble column.
Hark! whence that rushing sound? 45
‘Tis like the wondrous strain
That round a lonely ruin swells,
Which, wandering on the echoing shore,
The enthusiast hears at evening:
‘Tis softer than the west wind’s sigh; 50
‘Tis wilder than the unmeasured notes
Of that strange lyre whose strings
The genii of the breezes sweep:
Those lines of rainbow light
Are like the moonbeams when they fall 55
Through some cathedral window, but the tints
Are such as may not find
Comparison on earth.
Behold the chariot of the Fairy Queen!
Celestial coursers paw the unyielding air; 60
Their filmy pennons at her word they furl,
And stop obedient to the reins of light:
These the Queen of Spells drew in,
She spread a charm around the spot,
And leaning graceful from the aethereal car, 65
Long did she gaze, and silently,
Upon the slumbering maid.
Oh! not the visioned poet in his dreams,
When silvery clouds float through the ‘wildered brain,
When every sight of lovely, wild and grand 70
Astonishes, enraptures, elevates,
When fancy at a glance combines
The wondrous and the beautiful, —
So bright, so fair, so wild a shape
Hath ever yet beheld, 75
As that which reined the coursers of the air,
And poured the magic of her gaze
Upon the maiden’s sleep.
The broad and yellow moon
Shone dimly through her form — 80
That form of faultless symmetry;
The pearly and pellucid car
Moved not the moonlight’s line:
‘Twas not an earthly pageant:
Those who had looked upon the sight, 85
Passing all human glory,
Saw not the yellow moon,
Saw not the mortal scene,
Heard not the night-wind’s rush,
Heard not an earthly sound, 90
Saw but the fairy pageant,
Heard but the heavenly strains
That filled the lonely dwelling.
The Fairy’s frame was slight, yon fibrous cloud,
That catches but the palest tinge of even, 95
And which the straining eye can hardly seize
When melting into eastern twilight’s shadow,
Were scarce so thin, so slight; but the fair star
That gems the glittering coronet of morn,
Sheds not a light so mild, so powerful, 100
As that which, bursting from the Fairy’s form,
Spread a purpureal halo round the scene,
Yet with an undulating motion,
Swayed to her outline gracefully.
From her celestial car 105
The Fairy Queen descended,
And thrice she waved her wand
Circled with wreaths of amaranth:
Her thin and misty form
Moved with the moving air, 110
And the clear silver tones,
As thus she spoke, were such
As are unheard by all but gifted ear.
FAIRY:
‘Stars! your balmiest influence shed!
Elements! your wrath suspend! 115
Sleep, Ocean, in the rocky bounds
That circle thy domain!
Let not a breath be seen to stir
Around yon grass-grown ruin’s height,
Let even the restless gossamer 120
Sleep on the moveless air!
Soul of Ianthe! thou,
Judged alone worthy of the envied boon,
That waits the good and the sincere; that waits
Those who have struggled, and with resolute will 125
Vanquished earth’s pride and meanness, burst the chains,
The icy chains of custom, and have shone
The day-stars of their age; — Soul of Ianthe!
Awake! arise!’
Sudden arose 130
Ianthe’s Soul; it stood
All beautiful in naked purity,
The perfect semblance of its bodily frame.
Instinct with inexpressible beauty and grace,
Each stain of earthliness 135
Had passed away, it reassumed
Its native dignity, and stood
Immortal amid ruin.
Upon the couch the body lay
Wrapped in the depth of slumber: 140
Its features were fixed and meaningless,
Yet animal life was there,
And every organ yet performed
Its natural functions: ‘twas a sight
Of wonder to behold the body and soul. 145
The self-same lineaments, the same
Marks of identity were there:
Yet, oh, how different! One aspires to Heaven,
Pants for its sempiternal heritage,
And ever-changing, ever-rising still, 150
Wantons in endless being.
The other, for a time the unwilling sport
Of circumstance and passion, struggles on;
Fleets through its sad duration rapidly:
Then, like an useless and worn-out machine, 155
Rots, perishes, and passes.
FAIRY:
‘Spirit! who hast dived so deep;
Spirit! who hast soared so high;
Thou the fearless, thou the mild,
Accept the boon thy worth hath earned, 160
Ascend the car with me.’
SPIRIT:
‘Do I dream? Is this new feeling
But a visioned ghost of slumber?
If indeed I am a soul,
A free, a disembodied soul, 165
Speak again to me.’
FAIRY:
‘I am the Fairy MAB: to me ‘tis given
The wonders of the human world to keep:
The secrets of the immeasurable past,
In the unfailing consciences of men, 170
Those stern, unflattering chroniclers, I find:
The future, from the causes which arise
In each event, I gather: not the sting
Which retributive memory implants
In the hard bosom of the selfish man; 175
Nor that ecstatic and exulting throb
Which virtue’s votary feels when he sums up
The thoughts and actions of a well-spent day,
Are unforeseen, unregistered by me:
And it is yet permitted me, to rend 180
The veil of mortal frailty, that the spirit,
Clothed in its changeless purity, may know
How soonest to accomplish the great end
For which it hath its being, and may taste
That peace, which in the end all life will share.
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