A thousand tongues wag noisily, and when
The music-halls the shameless concourse swells,
And drunken wretches reel from many a den,
The scene grows yet more like an earthly hell!—
But hush! Big Ben booms midnight, like some solemn knell!
Do they not hear it sounding on the wind,
These reckless haunters of the crowded street?
Nay, on they course, their laughter unconfined,
Prepared in all their brazen shame to greet
The ribald roysterers they haply meet!