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On the Great Fire of London
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Main Work
No longer shall we set our hearths alight
Nor carelessly forget a tight-shut floo,
Not since we drew five hot days from one night.
We tested hell and found it to be true.
Flesh-suited demons, bent over their carts,
Who by day charge some pennies for quick rolls,
Took up a hell-spat virtue in their hearts,
Demanding heavy pounds to save light souls
And speed them through the streets high-walled with fire.
All made a Styx of London's lovely Thames
And usurped Charon's boat as flames grew higher,
Escaping before Hell could grab their hems.
Thus Hades can, in ovens, rise like yeast,
Our sinful souls his Day of Judgment feast.
