A rich repast prepare;
Reason’s feast and flow of soul
Again will triumph here;
While punishment and vengeance scowl
A baleful frown upon our baffled host.
Late we heard their battle bray,
Arm to arm and force to force;
Thro’ hours of havoc urg’d the course,
And thro’ all Bow-street squadrons mow’d their way.
These hours are gone, and gone our fame,