Are what they call suits in Chancery!”
I heard a loud screaming of old and young,
Like a chorus by fifty Vellutis’ sung;
Or an Irish dump (“the words by Moore”)
At an amateur concert scream’d in score;—
So harsh on my ear that wailing fell
Of the wretches who in this limbo dwell!
It seemed like the dismal symphony
Of the shapes Æneas in hell did see;
Or those frogs, whose legs a barbarous cook