But Tom's no more—and so no more of Tom.

Heroes must die; and by God's blessing 't is

Not long before the most of them go home.

Hail! Thamis, hail! Upon thy verge it is

That Juan's chariot, rolling like a drum

In thunder, holds the way it can't well miss,

Through Kennington and all the other "tons,"

Which make us wish ourselves in town at once;—