Dumb waiters from their tables slink away,
And leave the spot to darkness and to me.
Now fades the glittering rocket from the sight,
And every nook a solemn stillness holds,
Save where the hodman climbs the scaffold’s height,
Or tinkling trowel the dabby mortar moulds.
The waltz and galop on the breezes borne
From orchestra with blazing lamps o’erhead,
The cornet, fiddle, flute, and echoing horn
No more will keep the Cockney from his bed.