Like those on the Thames near the weirs and locks.
When Premiers collide, and when Princes get shocks,
In cabs or in carriages, King Street way driving,
'Tis time that street warnings the wise were contriving.
For now it is clear that you might as well try
To steer a balloon through a thundery sky,
Or take a stroll near the setting of sun
In a suburb where cads upon bicycles run;
Or command—or serve in—an ironclad fleet,
As—take a drive down St. James's Street!