Fann'd from his forehead, bowing to his saddle,
Smiling and nodding, cursing at them too
For hindering his progress—while his eye,
His eagle eye, well versed in such discernment,
Roved through the crowd; and ever lighted where
Some pretty ancle, clad in woollen hose,
Peeped from beneath a short round petticoat,
Or where some wealthy burgher's buxom dame,
Decked out in all her high-day splendour, stood
Showing her gossips the gold chain, which lay