Give me crowding children. A front lawn damp
Under an angular bejewelled Great Bear:
Young hot brothers held to peer through window-bars

Fidgeting in vain for rockets due to flare:
After altercations round the oily cycle-lamp
Wonderful and sudden showers in blackest air,
Kingly gold eclipsing the ineffectual stars.
Every bang expended. One smouldering spark.
Silence. Smell of sulphur. Re-instated dark.