Through coaches, drays, choked turnpikes, and a whirl

Of wheels, and roar of voices, and confusion;

Here taverns wooing to a pint of "purl,"[573]There mails fast flying off like a delusion;

There barbers' blocks with periwigs in curl

In windows; here the lamplighter's infusion

Slowly distilled into the glimmering glass

(For in those days we had not got to gas—);[KN] [574]