LIX.

Let this not seem an anti-climax:--"Oh! My guard! my old guard!"[548] exclaimed that god of clay. Think of the Thunderer's falling down below Carotid-artery-cutting Castlereagh![kg] Alas! that glory should be chilled by snow! But should we wish to warm us on our way Through Poland, there is Kosciusko's name Might scatter fire through ice, like Hecla's flame.