For whilst great Vulcan held his beam on high,
They durst not breathe, nor even wink an eye.
(Oh! what a shocking, melancholy fate,
To be the vassals of such low estate:
Dogs upon earth are angels in a heaven,
Compared to those poor wretches who are driven
From south to north, from east to west, with wings
Like flaming firebrands, and whose mouths have stings
As deadly in their touch as adders are:
Their peace is worse than earth’s most direful war!)