“‘Once to my sight the giant thus was given–
Walled by wide air, and roofed by boundless heaven;
Methought, no clarion could have sent its sound
Even to the centre of the hosts around.
And as I thought, rose the sonorous swell
As from some church tower swings the silver bell.
Aloft and clear, from airy tide to tide,
It glided easy as a bird may glide,
To the last verge of that vast audience.’”
“After O’Connell, who would try to manage such a crowd?” asked Piers.