Ho! trumpets blare forth bravely, ho, banners proudly flout! Cool critics loll expectant, spectators swarm and shout! For lo! short truce is over, and lately sundered foes, Once more in the arena will counter, clash, and close. The echoes of the battle when last they trod the sand, The tramp of eager horsemen, the clang of biting brand, Seem scarcely to have left us, and now, before the Spring Has come with burst of blossom, has filled with flush of wing, Ere Valentine the Vernal hath trod the ancient tracks, His burthens laid on lovers, and eke on postmen’s backs, Ere snow hath left the branches, ere green hath lit the boughs, We may look out for ructions, and we must list to rows. Yet in this huge arena heroic figures shine; Such sure is thine, Gladstonius; Cæcilius, such is thine! Achilles and great Hector might well have flushed with joy To counter foes so worthy afar by windy Troy. Cæcilius on his war-horse full proudly pranceth round―― He doth not show like shrinking, nor look like giving ground; And at his back all brawny, and stolid, and serene (An armour-bearer stouter hath been right seldom seen), Comes low-lipped Hartingtonius, ready with shield, or crest, Or sword, or spear, or javelin, as may be in request. These eyeing stern and steady, as fighters foemen eye, Comes wintry-lock’d Gladstonius, game still the lists to try Against whatever comer, erect, and gaunt of limb, With glance exceeding fiery, and jaw exceeding grim; _His_ armour-bearer, also, is ready at his heel, With breadth of bossy buckler, and length of shining steel; Parnellius the Placid, with pallid cheek and cold, With calm eye ever watchful, and chill front ever bold. When these anon encounter in full and fiery tilt, Be sure that steel shall splinter, and ruddy blood be spilt. “Who――who in the aforetime had ever thought to see These heroes _so_ attended, museth the herald, _P_, And other chiefs of valour though lower in their grade, Array in the arena, and prance in the parade. Comes Smithius the smug-faced, him of the settled smirk, Balfourius “the brave,” too, one never known to shirk Sword-thrust, or spare his foeman though prostrate and disarmed, Goschenius, erst henchman of Gladstonius, till charmed From him the white-lock’d Wonder, but now his fiercest foe, Save Chamberlanius, better beknown as Brummijo, Who beards his ancient Chieftain with even more of ire, And backs his ancient foeman with yet more zealous fire. Not so the stout Harcourtius, him of the triple chin, He backs the “Grand Old Manlius,” as one who’s bound to win, Old Manlius Gladstonius, when others shy or sulk, And loads the ancient war-horse with big complacent bulk. And others follow after him of the snowy crest, Morleius the mordant, bravest amongst the best, Gallant Spencerius Rufus, the loyallest of hearts, And――but the clarion brayeth, the martial pageant starts. [Illustration]