"Kick her brains out! let her blood spatter her!
Roll on her over and over!"
XCIX.
For so she gather'd the awful sense
Of the street in its past unmacadamized tense,
As the wild horse overran it,—
His four heels making the clatter of six,
Like a Devil's tattoo, play'd with iron sticks
On a kettle-drum of granite!
C.