Whose barbarous sounds might even split the ears
Of Belzebub himself,—cease your horrific din,
No more the valiant Dan, with host of Israel,
Flank’d and supported by the Bow-street tribe
Of myrmidons, and bruisers squaring in the pit;—
No more the phalanx dares to face the town.
O’erwhelm’d by numbers and determin’d hate,
No more the orders in the boxes now
Support the managers,—but placards wave,
And O. P.’s shine from every box! initials hateful;