The original family who had begun to build a palace to rival Nonesuch had died out before they had put up little more than the gateway, […].

And like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye.

Our myxomatoid kids spraddle the streets / We've shunned them from the greasy grind

At first, we thought they were a star shower. But the “stars” stayed in a circle as if they were strung together like beads. Meteors scatter when they fall, so we soon realized we were seeing something else.