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AT THE FIREMEN'S EXHIBITION, by                    
First Line: Night: and london's ancient hallows
Last Line: Spreads the great tent-maker's round.
Subject(s): Exhibitions; Writers, European; World's Fairs; Expositions


Night: and London's ancient hallows
Flaming like so many tallows,
Smoking to the sky and writing
Volumes of a dire inditing:—

"Fiend, not fire, hold in abhorrence,
On my gridiron cry I Laurence."
"Stephen, keep thy namesakes whole, man—
Brother Walbrook, brother Coleman."
"Who would boast of beauty's pride
Look on me, the blackened Bride."
"Never earthly kingdom trust in,
I enjoin you, I Augustine."
"How precarious man's estate
Know I Giles of Cripplegate."
"Liberties how vain, and charters,
Magnus I and other martyrs."

Day: and on his wonted hill
Stands the warder Martin still;
Votaresses yet there be—
Margaret Pattens, Catherine Cree;
Nor hath any bitter draught
Borne down Andrew Undershaft.
And though everywhere of twain
One be left, the other ta'en,
Pitched on his old camping-ground
Spreads the great Tent-maker's round.





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