While throng’d the citizens with terror dumb,
Or whispering with white lips—“The foe! they come! they come!”
* * * * *
Childe Harold, Canto III.
The Railway Panic.
There was a sound that ceased not day or night,
Of Speculation. London gathered then
Unwonted crowds and moved by promise bright,
To Capel Court rushed women, boys and, men,