Measures banished, wrongs not righted. See your Church, how disunited! See the scores of bills you’ve blighted In the House of Peers! Cringing, wav’ring, and benighted, ’Midst your country’s tears. Yet you deem yourselves a blessing―― Sleek and fat, and self-caressing, Time is short, and needs are pressing; Soon you’ll have to go. Dull and useless, always messing; Dotard’s all, and slow. JAMES TURNER. ―――― RANDOLPH’S REMONSTRANCE TO SIR STAFFORD. Never fighting, ever cooing, Still a fruitless course pursuing; Read you not the wrong you’re doing In my cheek’s pale hue? All my lifelong hopes eschewing―― Fight, or cease to coo! Gordon murdered, pledges slighted, Still our ways are disunited. When the goal is well-nigh sighted Feeble funk appears; Vacillation so benighted. Is for Lib’ral fears. Office――once your dearest blessing; Place――we both would be possessing! Hopes――a mutual soul confessing, Soon you’ll make them grow Dim, and worthless our caressing―― Yours with age, mine woe. HENRY L. BRICKEL. ―――― BRITANNIA’S REMONSTRANCE. Never peaceful, ever doing, Still the phantom, Fame, pursuing, And askance the straight path viewing―― All for pow’r and place! Future storms for me you’re brewing; Cease, or veil my face! Where is now the troth we plighted? Both our hearts are disunited; Freedom’s lamp one day we lighted, Now ’tis quenched with tears. Heroes murdered, great hopes blighted, Roused are all our fears. Once you earned my richest blessing, Thrilled my soul with your caressing Each a mutual love confessing, Soon its sweets you’ll miss, For your love’s not worth possessing While War’s lips you kiss. J. ARTHUR ELLIOTT. ―――― STAFFY’S REMONSTRANCE. Never winning, ever wooing, Still the sweets of place pursuing, And the cause of my undoing, Randolph――it is you! All your life seems spent in brewing Mischief ever new, Rivals bullied and indicted, Still our ranks are disunited; When your glowworm lamp is lighted Mine half-quenched appears; I must wander on benighted ’Mid’st the groans and cheers. Would you but bestow your blessing, How I’d purr at your caressing! But your pranks are so distressing Soon you’ll make me trow Place itself’s not worth possessing If you plague me so! GOSSAMER. ――――:o:―――― THE EXILE OF ERIN.