While perils that distant seem'd, drew near,
And ghastlier grew the night.
Dread rumour, outstripping the winged flame,
Still spoke of powder stored,
Ere deep in the moat 'twas safely roll'd,
Sparing the walls of that White Tower old,
Rich memory's darkest hoard.
And all the while the threaten'd pile
Rang with a mingled roar,
And hurried feet in danger meet,