And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!
Lord Byron.
The Destruction of the Aldermen.
A Mansion House Melody.
Apoplexia came down on the Alderman fold,
And his cohorts were gleaming with jaundice like gold,
And the sheen of the spectres that own’d his behest
Glimmer’d bright as the gas at a new Lord Mayor’s feast.