When night her sable pall doth spread
Above the city's sleeping head
So as it seemeth to be dead;
And labour hath a short surcease,
And burglars taste a halcyon peace,
Save where the vigilant police,
All fearless on their darkling beat,
With sound of heavy-sandalled feet
Wake awesome echoes in the street;
When weary chapmen go their ways
To halls of song or sit at gaze
In front of elevating plays;
Or haply drop into the club,
And pausing for a friendly rub
Defy the deadly nuptial snub;
Or watch in fond paternal mood
The slumber of their infant brood
In some suburban neighbourhood:—
Then, Julia, then, at such an hour
I gather that you quit your bower
And seek the purlieus of the Tower;
Encased in wanton breeks and wide,
A solid regiment, you ride
With swains revolving at your side;
By stilly thoroughfares you strike
Th' astonied silence with your bike;
Earth never yet hath seen the like!
Not she, that fair of whom they sing,
Who wrought her city's ransoming,
Godiva dared so bold a thing.