What Walls can guard me, or what Shades can hide?
They pierce my Thickets, thro' my Grot they glide,
By land, by water, they renew the charge,
They stop the Chariot, and they board the Barge.
No place is sacred, not the Church is free,
Ev'n  shines no  to me:
Then from the  walks forth the Man of Ryme,
Happy! to catch me, just at Dinner-time.