BELGRAVIA BY NIGHT.

“The foxes have holes,

And the birds of the air have nests,

But where shall the heads of the sons of men

Be laid, be laid?”

“Where the cold corpse rests,

Where the sightless moles

Burrow and yet cannot make it afraid,

Rout but cannot wake it again,

There shall the heads of the sons of men

Be laid, laid!”