--per audaces nova dithyrambos Verba devolvit, numerisque fertur Lege solutis.--HORAT. _Spoken by a_ GLENDOVEER. I am a blessed Glendoveer; 'Tis mine to speak, and yours to hear. MIDNIGHT, yet not a nose From Tower Hill to Piccadilly snored! Midnight, yet not a nose From Indra drew the essence of repose! See with what crimson fury, By Indra fann'd, the god of fire ascends the walls of Drury; The tops of houses, blue with lead, Bend beneath the landlord's tread. Master and 'prentice, serving man and lord, Nailer and tailor, Grazier and brazier, Thro' streets and alleys pour'd, All, all abroad to gaze, And wonder at the blaze. Thick calf, fat foot, and slim knee, Mounted on roof and chimney, The mighty roast, the mighty stew To see; As if the dismal view Were but to them a Brentford jubilee. Vainly, all radiant Surya, sire of Phaeton, (By the Greeks called Apollo) Hollow Sounds from thy harp proceed; Combustible as reed, The tongue of Vulcan licks thy wooden legs: From Drury's top, dissever'd from thy pegs, Thou tumblest, Humblest, Where late thy bright effulgence shone on high: While, by thy somerset excited, fly Ten million, Billion Sparks from the pit, to gem the sable sky. Now come the men of fire to quench the fires, To Russell Street see Globe and Atlas run, Hope gallops first, and second Sun; On flying heel, See Hand-in-Hand O'ertake the band; View with what glowing wheel He nicks Phoenix; While Albion scampers from Bridge Street, Blackfriars, Drury Lane! Drury Lane! Drury Lane! Drury Lane! They shout and they bellow again and again. All, all in vain! Water turns steam; Each blazing beam Hisses defiance to the eddying spout, It seems but too plain that nothing can put it out! Drury Lane! Drury Lane! See, Drury Lane expires!