From Tower-Hill to Piccadilly snored!
Midnight, yet not a nose[53]
From Indra drew the essence of repose!
See with what crimson fury,
By Indra fann’d, the god of fire ascends the walls of Drury!
Tops of houses, blue with lead,
Bend beneath the landlord’s tread.
Master and ’prentice, serving man and lord,
Nailor and tailor,
Grazier and brazier,