The fire shot up, the martin flew,
The parrot scream’d, the peacock squall’d,
The maid and page renew’d their strife, 125
The palace bang’d, and buzz’d and clackt,
And all the long pent stream of life
Dash’d downward in a cataract.
III.
And last with these the king awoke,
And in his chair himself uprear’d, 130
And yawn’d, and rubb’d his face, and spoke,