Our Clio for a fell Tisiphone!
For when we do these wretches batter,
’Twill be no water gruel matter;
And you’ll agree then, I assure ye,
Our muse is well changed for a fury.
Thou sprite! thou hag! thou witch! thou spectre!
Friend Southey’s crony and protector:
Who led the bard, with Joan of Arc,
Through death’s deep, dreary, dungeon dark!
Until ye were, I dare be bound,