I.
The feast was over on Lord Mayor's Day;
The waiters had clear'd the viands away;
The Common Councilmen all were gone,
And every Alderman,—saving one;
Who to gorge and guzzle no longer able,
Had sunk to repose beneath the table,
And, sooth'd by his own melodious snore,
Lay calmly stretch'd on the Guildhall floor.
But he lay not long in the arms of sleep,