Sprawled o'er the question with the which he'd grapple;
PICTON prosed on,—the style in which men preach
In a dissenting chapel.
Prince ARTHUR twined one lank leg t'other round,
Drooping a long chin like BURNE-JONES's ladies;
And HARCOURT, sickening of the strident sound,
Wished CONYBEARE in Hades.
For over all there hung a cloud of fear,
A sense of imminent doom the spirit daunted,
And said, as plain as whisper in the ear,