The King's Anxiety to be punctual at the Morning Audience

How speeds the night?
Scarce yet the half is fled:
The great torch gleams out red.
Yet will my lords anon be here,
Bells tinkling gaily on their gear.

How speeds the night?
Scarce yet is darkness gone:
The great torch glimmers on.
Yet will my lords anon be here;
Their tinkling bells announce them near,

How speeds the night?
Now towards the morn it turns:
No more the great torch burns.
And now my lords will soon be here; —
Ho, there at last their flags appear!