And form themselves, adroitly, in a ring
Upon the trodden blade. They sit, and eat,
And quaff. Why should they not?—It is most meet
Those Englanders should well enjoy their treat.
Hear then the thunder of the little throat
Of him, who first doth nail[74] the Pastor’s coat,—
Of them, who follow—anxious for the prize,
Which is held out to greet their longing eyes—
As forth the Pastor runs from tree to tree,
With equal pleasure and sincerity.