“You who, with a wind of words in thuds of thunder,
Of sense made hash;
Blind, yet bleating in the blaze of your own blunder
Whole yards of trash;
By your posing—your back somersaults of error
That no one fire,—
By the frenzy and the cry of loud-tongued terror
Your jokes inspire;
By the promise of your early dawn reversèd
Clean upside down,