Let not the Upper House disdain the toil, Nor by inaction rouse the slumbering storm; Nor Bishops hear with a disdainful smile Their proud position threatened by reform. _The boast of Birmingham_ may make them cower, And all that PALMERSTON or DERBY gave May yield alike to Nonconformist power, Nor even SHAFTESBURY his creatures save. Nor you, REFORMERS, lay to us the fault, If rotten boroughs still their prices raise; If greedy agents still their victims _salt_, And foul corruption shines with _sugary_ glaze. Can Ballot-urn, where venal voters thrust Their tickers, compensate for perjured breath? Can candidates escape “down with the dust?” As well might mortals hope to cheat grim Death. Perhaps in yonder corner may be laid Some tattered fragments of a former Bill;―― DIZZY’S, with fancy franchises o’erlaid,―― Or last year’s, which ADULLAMITES did kill. Full many a traitor, outwardly serene, That dark, mysterious cave, ADULLAM, bore; Full many a plot was hatched, by BRAND unseen, Combining men who ne’er combined before. The stalwart ELCHO, that with dauntless breast The tyrant of the Treasury withstood; E’en mute inglorious DOULTON did his best; And HORSMAN braved the vengeance dire of STROUD. The applause of listening TORIES to command, The threats of BEALES and DICKSON to despise, To foster agitation through the land, And read their speeches interspersed with lies, Their lot was this; this their reward alone: To OPPOSITION Benches still confined; The RUSSELL Ministry by them o’erthrown. To join the TORIES they had not the mind. Far from desirous of avoiding strife, They for official spoils ne’er cared to play; But in the feuds of senatorial life Pursued their own, their independent way. Their names, their deeds, writ in the _Daily News_, The place of power and salary supply; On them REFORM LEAGUERS shower their foul abuse, And _Telegraph_ and _Star_ their ribaldry. Free was their action――let us hope, sincere, The LEAGUE a recompense as freely sends; Of “hard and fast lines” they confess a fear;―― The LEAGUE declares they are not Freedom’s friends. No further seek their motives to disclose, Nor cull from speeches phrases undefined; Leave them among the shadows to repose, And in REFORM a hopeful future find. From _Echoes from the Clubs_. July 24, 1867. ――――:o:―――― AN ELEGY ON CREMATION. Above yon mantel, in the new screen’s shade, Where smokes the coal in one dull smouldering heap, Each in his patent urn for ever laid, The baked residua of our fathers sleep―― The wheezy call of muffins in the morn, The milkman tottering from his rusty shed, The help’s shrill clarion, or the fish-man’s horn, No more shall rouse them from their lofty bed.