To the festering and the pestering of the Smells!

III.

See the Spectre of the Smells—

London Smells!

What a world of retrospect his tyranny compels!

In the silence of the night

How we muse on the old plight

Of Kensington,—a Dismal Swamp, and lone!

Still the old Swamp-Demon floats

O'er the City, as our throats