The Moon still glistens, and again I think Of Multitudes who've paid and stared, and yawned and wandered here! The city muckworm, who Prom peacock orient, scarce could tell a cock Of hay! Though be ye sure, a guinea from a guinea-pig He knows, and (as for money) Ever has his squeak for't! Here, too, paused the wise, sagacious man, Master of probabilities! He sees the tusk of elephant--the two tusks-- And, with a thought, cuts 'em into cubes-- And with another thought--another--and another- Tells (to himself) how oft, in twenty years Those spotted squares shall come up sixes! And this in living elephant! And HER MAJESTY has trod these Walks, Accompanied By PRINCE ALBERT, THE PRINCE OF WALES, THE PRINCESS ROYAL, And The Rest of the Royal Children!-- She saw the Tiger! Did she think of TIPPOO SAIB'S Tiger's Head? She saw the Lion! Thought she of one of her own Arms? She did NOT see the Unicorn; but (With her gracious habits of condescension) Did she think of him a bit the less? Thoughts crowd upon me-cry move on! And now I am here; and whether I will or no, I feel I'm jolly! The Chameleons are asleep, and, like the Cabinet (Of course i mean the Whigs), Know not, when they rise to-morrow, What color they will wake!-- The baby elephant seems prematurely old: Its infant hide all corrugate with thoughts Of cakes and oranges given it by boys; Alas! in Chancery now, and paralytic! This is very sad. No more of it! Ha! ha! here sits the Ape--the many-colored wight! Thou hast marked him, with nose of scarlet sealing-wax, And so be-colored with prismatic hues, As though he had come from sky to earth-- Sliding and wiping a fresh-painted rainbow! Hush! I have made a perfect circle! And at the Snake-House once again I stand! Such is life! Eh! Oh! Help! Murder! Dreadful Accident! To be conceived--Oh, perhaps! Described--Oh, never! Keepers are up, and crowd about the box-- The Boa's box--with unconcerned rabbits! Not so the Boa! Look! Behold! And where's the Blanket? In the Boa's inside place! The Monster mark! How he writhes and wrestles with the wool, as though He had within him rolls and rolls Of choking, suffocating influenza, That lift his eyes from out their sockets!--Of fleecy phlegm That will neither in or out, but mid-way Seem to strangle! Silence and wonder settle on the crowd; From whom instinctively and breathlessly, Ascend two pregnant questions! "Will the Boa bolt the blanket? Will the blanket choke the Boa?" Such the problem! And then men mark and deduce Differently "THE BLANKET IS ENGLAND: THE BOA THE POPE, WILL THE POPE DISGORGE HIS BULL?" "THE BLANKET'S FREE TRADE: THE CORN-GORGED FOLK IS THE BOA WITH PLENTY STIFLED!" "THE BLANKET'S REFORM TO GAG THE MOB, AND NAUGHT TO SATISFY!"