And splendid Psammis in his hide of crust;
Princes and heroes, men of high renown,
Who in their day kicked up a mighty dust,—
Their swarthy Mummies kicked up dust in numbers,
When huge Belzoni came to scare their slumbers!
Who’d think these rusty hams of mine were seated
At Dido’s table, when the wond’rous tale
Of “Juno’s hatred” was so well repeated?
And ever and anon the queen turned pale;
Meanwhile the brilliant gas-lights, hung above her,