Then fast the Fireman rose, and waked his mate that lay beside;
And each man gripp'd his trusty axe, and donn'd his coat of hide—
There bounds beneath that leather coat a heart as strange to fear
As ever swell'd beneath the steel of gilded cuirassier.
And from beneath the leather casque that guards the Fireman's brow,
A bolder, sterner glance shines out than plumy crest can show;
And oft shall ply the Fireman's axe, though rude and rough it be,
Where sabre, lance, and bayonet, right soon would turn and flee!
Off dash the thundering engines, like goblin jäger-chase—
The sleeper shudders as they pass, and pallid grows his face: