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II I looked again and saw that flowery space

Stirring, as if alive, beneath the tread

That rested now upon an old man's head

And now upon a baby's gasping face,

Or mother's bosom, or the rounded grace

Of a girl's throat; and what had seemed the red

Of flowers was blood, in gouts and gushes shed

From hearts that broke under that frolic pace.

And now and then from out the dreadful floor

An arm or brow was lifted from the rest,

As if to strike in madness, or implore

For mercy; and anon some suffering breast

Heaved from the mass and sank; and as before

The revellers above them thronged and prest.

Howells, Stops of Various Quills, 1895 061 large b.jpg