In vain! A something ails the edifice, it bends,
It bows, it buries ... Haste! cry "Heads below" to friends—
But have no fear they find, when smother shall subside,
Some substitution perk with unabated pride
I' the predecessor's place!
CXIII
No,—the one voice which failed
Never, the preachment's coign of vantage nothing ailed,—
That had the luck to lodge i' the house not made with hands!