And now the strife is over, In Flintshire as elsewhere, The Liberal cause has conquered, With lots of strength to spare. Round Gladstone throng the leaders From all parts of the land, And each would be the foremost To grasp his manly hand. XXXIX. And in the nights of winter When the stars withhold their smiles, And the sweet voices of the cats Are heard upon the tiles; When round suburban villas Roars the loud tempests’ din, And draughts and smoky chimneys Cause loud complaints within―― XL. When the oldest bottle’s opened, And the chandelier is lit, When the chestnuts glow in the embers, And the good wife sits to knit; When young and old in circle Around the fireside close, When the boys go in for courting, And the girls caress their beaus; XLI. When the Stanley club completeth Its year of jubilee, And grey-haired members take with pride A grandchild on each knee; With ever growing interest The story will survive, How William Gladstone gained the day In eighteen eighty-five. F. W. S. (_Twenty-four verses omitted._) From _The Hampstead and Highgate Express_. December 26, 1885. ―――― GLADSTONIUS. (_Extract from a Classic Poem._) But with a crash like thunder, Fell many a loosened “plank,” And, with a dam,[107] the Grand Old Man, Made for the County Bank. * * * * * “O Voter, Rural Voter, To whom we Liberals pray, A Liberal’s life and policy Take thou in charge this day!” So he spake, and speaking, fastened The well-worn mackintosh, And, with Welsh flannel on his back, Plunged Hodgewards in the slosh. * * * * * And when above the turmuts They see his drooping gills; From the Reform came loud applause, And the _Times’_ Leader-writers pause To trim their well-worn quills. * * * * * But his limbs were borne up bravely By the brave heart within, And the Good Rural Voter Bore bravely up his chin. And now he feels the bottom, Now on dry earth he stands, Now round him throng the Lib’rals; To press his muddy hands. * * * * * They gave him an umbrella-stand In record of the fight, And twelve stout stand-up collars To wear from morn till night. They gave him gay gardenias For buttonholes, I vow, And CHAMBERLAINUS promised him “Three Acres and a Cow!” _Punch._ December 12, 1885. ―――― Now Joseph C. of Birmingham By his Three Points he swore, The worthy folk of England Should suffer wrong no more. By his Three Points he swore it, And eager for the fray, He bade his messengers ride forth East and West, and South and North, To summon his array.