By his giant consort led.
Little dwarfs, the way to show,
Foremost march the gall’ries through,
Holding each a sulphur brand
Blazing in his rugged hand.
Half conceal’d in a corner, and far from the light,
There stand the shield-bearers, all ready for fight:
There was sour-featur’d Vitriol, and Arsenic fell,
Whose look would the stoutest assailant repel.
Like a little child in mien,