All they have ever screech'd or sung.

Despairing, thence, they would retire

Long distance from his loathsome lyre,

And let their lonely caves and rocks

Resound with his poetic shocks;

To be, perhaps, all rent in twain

By his unearthly, rumbling strain.

As I was musing on this theme,

I fell asleep, and had a dream:

I saw the fish that skim the deep,

And o'er the billows nimbly leap,

All sink beneath the boiling wave,

Down to the lowest depths, to lave:

For they had heard the dismal lay

Of Park come booming down the bay,

And, doubtless, thought some hungry shark

Was chasing them with hellish bark;

That his sharp teeth, already nigh,

Would them destroy, and they must die;

That there, alas, was no escape

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