Scarce thro’ the gloom could pierce the gas-lamp’s light,
When to the square, which bears proud Grosvenor’s name,
A crowd of carriages and chariots came,
Stopping in turns, successively before
A mansion’s wide and double-knockered door;
And there was heard the carriage door’s quick slam,—
Anon a halt—and then a sudden jam
Of poles retrorsally thro’ chariots driven,
And shrieks of “Coachman!—Thomas! John!—oh Heaven!”
At length, in safety’s reached the drawing room,