How can the Childe's poetic shade refuse
To plead his cause, on his base foe make war?
Perchance redemption from a phantom Muse,
Whose voice now faintly echoes from afar,
May come, and check his sordid conqueror's car,
E'en in its roll of victory, snatch the reins,
From Greed's foul hands and further havoc bar,
Say, shall the Penny Steamer's petty gains,
Banish the Gondolier, and hush his cheery strains?