_Light Green_, a magazine published at Cambridge, in 1872, contained another parody of the same original, it is called "The May Dream," by Alfred Pennysong. The following appeared in _The Tomahawk_, of December 5th, 1868. ELECTIONS' EVE! _A Song of the Future(?)._ You must wake and call me early, call me early mother dear, Though November is the dullest month of any in the year, Yet to-morrow I shall represent my country--oh! how droll! For I'm the Queen of the Poll, mother! I'm the Queen of the Poll! There'll be many a black, black eye, mother (I hope one won't be mine), But ten thousand voting virgins will be flocking to my sign, Supported by my Coleridge--Mill, 'neath Becker's steadfast soul, Shall I be the Queen of the Poll, mother! I, be the Queen of the Poll! The Benches soon shall welcome me, the Lobby be my haunt, That spinster Speaker by her winks and frowns shall ne'er me daunt. My rights are good as any, and my name is on the roll, And I'm the Queen of the Poll, mother! I'm the Queen of the Poll. I have been wild and wayward, but those days are past and gone, The Valse is fled, the Kettledrum, the Croquet on the Lawn; Another _Lawn_, clear-starched and white, rises before my eye, The Speaker's risen to _orders_, why the Dickens shouldn't I? Pardon my slang, for auld _slang_ syne, I'm still a woman true, And women's tongues were never made to say what they might rue; But there's one thing on my mind, mother, to ask you I'd forgot, Shall I repair to Parliament in petticoats or----not? Now, good night, good night, dear mother, ah! to-morrow'll be the day When women's rights are settled, then won't we have our say; And then 'midst England's patriots, my name shall I enrol, For I'm the Queen of the Poll, mother! I'm the Queen of the Poll! * * * * * A DREAM OF FAIR WOMEN. (From _The World_, July 23rd, 1879). Long time I fed my eyes on that strange scene, Painted by Poynter, of the famous bay, Wherein Phæacian maids surround their queen Nausicaa in play. And clearer on my trancèd gaze there grew The celebrated beauties of the town; Leaping in front, I saw with wonder new The sexless thing in brown. Meseemed that, as I gazed, my vision changed: The loose-girt ladies on the pictured wall I saw no more; but, fancy led, I ranged The fair in Albert Hall. The hothouse blossoms of a sunless year, And quaintest crewels, wrought in grays and greens, Adorned the stalls--extravagantly dear, For they were sold by queens. Foremost I saw, with overloaded stall Beset from morn till eve with densest crowd, A daughter of the Jews, divinely small, And most divinely proud.