Ere Alecto sought my bed;
In her left hand a torch she shook,
And in her right led John Horne Tooke.
O thou! who well deserv’st the bays,
Teach him, she cried, Sedition’s lays—
She said, and left us; I, poor fool,
Began the wily priest to school;
Taught him how Moira sung of lights,
Blown out by troops o’ stormy nights;[[153]]
How Erskine, borne on rapture’s wings,