One showed an ochre coast and emerald waves; You seemed to see them rise and fall, As infant supers--wretched little slaves-- Under the canvass crawl. And one a full-faced, flashed comedian--low-- Showing his teeth, with nervous strain, With queer goggle-eyes striking like a blow, And causing quite a pain. And one a miser, hoarding fruits of toil, In front a bony beak, behind, Wisps of grey hairs all destitute of oil, Blown hoary on the wind. And one a foreground with three hideous hags, Each twice as tall as life, or higher, Medusa-monsters, clothed in wretched rags, And crouching round a fire. And one an English home--lantern-light poured On a forced safe, skeleton keys, Whilst gloating o'er the family plate there stored, Glowered the murderer, +Peace+. Nor these alone, but everything to scare, Fit for each morbid mood of mind; Murder and misery, want and woe were there As large as life designed. * * * * * There was a fellow in a pretty fix, "Tied to a corpse," all wild alarm, Struggling across a sort of sooty Styx, The "body" on his arm. Or in a snow-choked city wretchedly, Dead babe at breast, with bare blown hair, A ruined woman crawled with quivering knee; Two bobbies scowled at her. Or, posing in a footlight paradise, A group of Houris smirked to see Young fools with clapping hands and ogling eyes Which said, "_We_ come for _ye_!" Or else a lost and deeply wounded one, In a wild swamp all bilious greens, Came on a corpse a bare branch dangling on; The ghastliest of scenes! Holloaed a half-choked boy with horrid fear, A brute the rope about to draw; A second with a knife and axe was near To give the first Lynch Law. Or in a railway-tunnel, iron rail'd, A man lay bound; his blood ran ice Who looked thereon, an engine shrieked; he paled, And fainted in a trice. A monkey by her hair a woman clasp'd; From her poor head it seemed half torn, One ape-hand dragged it back; the other grasp'd A steel blade's haft of horn. A hideous babe in nauseous nudity, Huge-headed, grinning like a clown, Advertised Soap. A vile monstrosity, The terror of the Town! Nor these alone; but every horror rare, Which the sensation-poisoned mind. Imaged to advertise vile trash, was there-- As large as life design'd. * * * * * Deep dread and loathing of these horrors crude, Fell on my Soul, hard to be borne, She cried, "Why should these _incubi_ intrude And plague us night and morn? "What! is not this a civilised town," she said, "A spacious city, cultured, free? Why give it up to dismalness and dread, Murder and misery?"