The future to her votary’s gaze:
Prophetic range my bosom swells—
I taste the cake—I hear the bells!
From Conduit street the close array
Of chariots barricades the way
To where I see, with outstretched hand,
Majestic thy great kinsman stand,[[21]]
And half unbend his brow of pride,
As welcoming so fair a bride;
Gay favors, thick as flakes of snow,