These awful sounds I hear him utter,
Which make my heart to beat and thwack it,
And burst the buttons off my jacket!
“’Tis not from motives of endearment
That I have burst my marble cearment;
No; I’m from Hades, in a hurry,
To make above ground one d—d flurry![64]
“Arm’d, as the dread occasion urges,
With Ate’s borrow’d snakes and scourges,
I come to rouse ye into action,