His faculties benumb’d and all amort—
At last his voice came, of most shrilly sort,
Just like a sea-gull’s wheeling round a rock—
“Speak!—Ellen!—is your sight indeed so short?
The Moon!—Brute! savage that I am, and block!
The Moon! (O, ye Romantics, what a shock!)
Why that’s the new Illuminated Clock!”
ST. BLAISE.