Measures its might. Oh! base ingratitude!
Dogs! ye one day shall howl for the lost hour,
When Venice was a Queen, with loveliness for dower.
Gondolas ruled, and now the Steam Launch reigns,
A stoker shovels where a lover knelt.
This thing of steam and smoke that stinks and stains,
Might suit the tainted Thames, the sluggish Scheldt;
But the Canal, which for long years hath felt
The sunshine of Romance—that downward go?
This is the deadliest blow that Trade hath dealt;