And beat the walls a muffled bang,
And stifle back and boom and bay
Like muffled peals on Boxing Day,
And then surge up and gather shape,
And spread great pinions and escape;
And each great bird of clanging shrieks
O Fire, Fire! from iron beaks.
My shoulders cracked to send around
Those shrieking birds made out of sound
With news of fire in their bills.