Whew! whew! with all your orders thus replete, If you can only compass your disgrace, When all men read these lines of halting feet. They’ll hurl you from your place As England’s Laureate! ―――――――― A CONSERVATIVE,――(ON HIS LEADER’S REPORTED INEFFICIENCY.) You――you――_if_ you have failed to understand That hope of office is our all in all―― On you will come the curse of all our band If that old Party fall, Which Beaconsfield made great―― This hope, our mightiest motive power on earth, This one great hope, that fills our hearts with glee―― Poor Party, what would all thy votes be worth, And what avail our love of place and fee, Wert thou a fallen State? You――you――who should have led to Downing-street If you have been too laggard in the race, Ere we all starve, our roused rebellious feet Will kick you from your place―― But then――too late, too late! HENRY L. BRICKELL. ―――――――― THE GOVERNMENT.――(ON ITS REPUTED INEFFICIENCY.) You――you if you should fail to understand That _Peace_ for England is her all in all―― On you will come the curse of all the land If that old England fall, Which _Peace_ has made so great―― This isle, the mightiest _moral_ power on earth, This one small isle, the lord of all the sea―― Poor England, what would all thy Fleet be worth, And what avail thine ancient name of “Free.” Wert thou a _tyrant_ State? You――you――who have the ordering of her choice, If you shall only compass her disgrace, When all men know, the wild mob’s million voice Shall hurl you from your place―― But then――too late, too late! JOHN CARTER ―――――――― THE LAUREATE.――(ON HIS REGRETTABLE DECADENCY). You――you――_if_ you have ceased to understand Why once your song did England’s heart enthral―― On you will come the gibes of all the land If that old grandeur fall From eminence so great. ’Tis vile, thou sweetest singer upon earth―― ’Tis very vile, thou bard of every sea―― Poor poet, what will bygone praise be worth, And what avail thine ancient fame to thee, If bathos blur thy state? You――you――whose Muse had dainty, dancing feet, If with a careless pen you mar her grace, While true men sigh, the million, as ’tis meet, Will laugh you from your place―― But then――too late, too late! EXE. ―――――――― THE CORPORATION (ALDERMAN LOQ.) We――we――who have not failed to understand That Soup of turtle is our all in all―― On us may fall the anger of the land, And that old charter fall, Which kings have left so great――