At croup or collar now he aims his blow,

  Now strikes at neck or pinion; but on all,

  As if he smote upon a bag of tow,

  The strokes without effect and languid fall.

  This while nor dish nor goblet they forego;

  Nor void those ravening fowls the regal hall,

  Till they have feasted full, and left the food

  Waste or polluted by their rapine rude.