The storm-blast came down Edgware Road,
Shrieking in furious glee,
It struck the cab, and both its doors
Leaped open, flying free.
I shut those doors, and kept them close
With all my might and main;
The storm-blast snatched them from my hands,
And forced them back again,
It blew the cabman from his perch
Towards the hornéd moon;
I saw him dimly overhead
Sail like a bad balloon.
It blew the bandbox far away
Across the angry sea;
The English Channel's scattered with
Silk and passementerie.
The silly horse within the shaft
One moment did remain;
And then the harness snapped, and he
Went flying through the rain;
And fell, a four-legged meteor,
Upon the coast of Spain.
_First Voice._
"What makes that cab move on so fast
Wherein no horse I find?"
_Second Voice._
"The horse has cut away before;
The cab's blown from behind."
Then just against the Harrow Road
I made one desperate bound--
A leprous lamp-post and myself
Lay mingled in a swound!
And cables snapped, and all things snapped;
When the next morn was grey,
The _Telegraph_ appeared without
Its "Paris Day by Day."