By puffs concipient some in ether flit,
And soar in bravos from the thundering pit;
Some forth on ticket-nights[51] from tradesmen break,
To mar the actor they design to make;
While some this mortal life abortive miss,
Crush'd by a groan, or strangled by a hiss.
So, when 'Dog's-meat' re-echoes through the streets,
Rush sympathetic dogs from their retreats,
Beam with bright blaze their supplicating eyes,
Sink their hind-legs, ascend their joyful cries;