For, on the sixteenth, at full gallop, drew In sight two horsemen, who were deemed Cossacques For some time, till they came in nearer view: They had but little baggage at their backs, For there were but _three_ shirts between the two; But on they rode upon two Ukraine hacks, Till, in approaching, were at length descried In this plain pair, Suwarrow and his guide.[402] XLIV. "Great joy to London now!" says some great fool, When London had a grand illumination, Which to that bottle-conjuror, John Bull, Is of all dreams the first hallucination; So that the streets of coloured lamps are full, That sage (said John) surrenders at discretion[ho] His purse, his soul, his sense, and even his nonsense, To gratify, like a huge moth, this _one_ sense. XLV. 'T is strange that he should further "Damn his eyes," For they are damned; that once all-famous oath Is to the Devil now no further prize, Since John has lately lost the use of both. Debt he calls Wealth, and taxes Paradise; And Famine, with her gaunt and bony growth, Which stare him in the face, he won't examine, Or swears that Ceres hath begotten Famine. XLVI. But to the tale;--great joy unto the camp! To Russian, Tartar, English, French, Cossacque, O'er whom Suwarrow shone like a gas lamp, Presaging a most luminous attack; Or like a wisp along the marsh so damp, Which leads beholders on a boggy walk, He flitted to and fro a dancing light, Which all who saw it followed, wrong or right. XLVII. But, certes, matters took a different face; There was enthusiasm and much applause, The fleet and camp saluted with great grace, And all presaged good fortune to their cause. Within a cannot-shot length of the place They drew, constructed ladders, repaired flaws In former works, made new, prepared fascines, And all kinds of benevolent machines. XLVIII. 'T is thus the spirit of a single mind Makes that of multitudes take one direction, As roll the waters to the breathing wind, Or roams the herd beneath the bull's protection; Or as a little dog will lead the blind, Or a bell-wether form the flock's connection By tinkling sounds, when they go forth to victual; Such is the sway of your great men o'er little. XLIX. The whole camp rung with joy; you would have thought That they were going to a marriage feast (This metaphor, I think, holds good as aught, Since there is discord after both at least): There was not now a luggage boy but sought Danger and spoil with ardour much increased; And why? because a little--odd--old man, Stripped to his shirt, was come to lead the van. L.