And can ne’er be repeated again any more
Than they could have been carefully plotted before:
Like old What’s-his-name there at the battle of Hastings
(Who, however, gave more than mere rhythmical bastings),
Our Quaker leads off metaphorical fights
For reform and whatever they call human rights,
Both singing and striking in front of the war,
And hitting his foes with the mallet of Thor:
Anne haec, one exclaims, on beholding his knocks,
Vestis filii tui, O leather-clad Fox?