II.
I was rous'd from my sleep by a frightful crash,
As if all the crockery'd gone to smash;
And I straight beheld a terrible form,—
At the end of the hall it took its stand,
With a swingeing besom in its hand,
And shouted out "REFORM!"
III.
Then stalking to me, it thus did say,
"Gone is the glory of Lord Mayor's Day!