Page:Sibylline Leaves (Coleridge).djvu/137

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115

By the the light of his own blazing cot
Was many a naked Rebel shot:
The house-stream met the flame and hiss'd,
While crash! fell in the roof, I wist,
On some of those old bed-rid nurses,
That deal in discontent and curses.

Both.

Who bade you do't?


Fire.

The same! the same!

Letters four do form his name.
He let me loose, and cried. Halloo!
To him alone the praise is due.

All

He let us loose, and cried, Halloo!

How shall we yield him honour due?

Famine.

Wisdom comes with lack of food,

I'll gnaw, I'll gnaw the multitude,
Till the cup of rage o'erbrim:
They shall seize him and his brood—

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