Yet not to rest, but of their plots occult
Sat whispering on their beds; and ere ’twas light
Resolving on the deed coud not defer;
But roused the sleeping house with sudden stir,
And sallied forth alone to work their spite.
4
And with the noon were climb’d upon the peak,
And swam down on the Zephyr as before;
But now with piercing cry and doleful shriek
They force their entrance through the golden door,