Don’t scrouge, or you shall go where police meet,
To chase the knowing thieves with flying feet!—
But hark! that sound is heard again—once more!
And boys, with whistle shrill, its note repeat;
And nearer, clearer, queerer than before!
Hats off!—It is, it is—the bell from prompter’s door!
Ah! then was hurry-skurry, to and fro;
And authors’ oaths, and symptoms of a mess;
And men as soldiers, who, two nights ago,
Went round the circus in a Chinese dress!