Let all look now, or look no more;
What stands at yonder palace-door?
Gaze, wonderers, gaze; a coach-and-eight
Is passing through that palace-gate—
A coach of gold, with steeds of cream,
It moves, the marvel of a dream.
With coursers six, are some that bring
The suite and kindred of the King;
Bold Sussex, honest Duke;
And him, the darling of renown,