And many a cracking human bone,
Confess’d it was a mighty stone,
At length, the task perform’d, His Grace
Made his best bow, and left the place;
And, anxious only to be gone,
Stepp’d in his coach, and cried,—“Drive on.”—
The boy then smacks his whip, and lo!
The B——p’s horses scampering go:
The party gaze with wild dismay
To see the chariot roll away!