Thus, in Volume III (p. 187), will be found Swinburne’s _The Commonweal_, which had originally appeared in _The Times_ of July 1, 1886, together with four parodies upon it. And, in Volume IV. (p. 147), Swinburne’s _The Question_, from _The Daily Telegraph_, April 29, 1887, was given, together with the caustic _Answer_, which appeared in _The Daily News_ of April 30, 1887. The following parody is from _Truth_ May 5, 1887:―― MR. SWINBURNE’S “QUESTION” ANSWERED. Come, frenzied poet, first, then, pray Just tell us what those verses meant Which to the _Telegraph_ you sent Last Thursday; since we, sad to say, Can’t fathom their intent, That you were very wild, ’twas clear, With some one; for you were profuse In that alliterative abuse, And in those epithets severe You aptly can produce. But who it was you wished to curse, Or what it was had roused your ire, Or why you wrote, with wroth so dire, So much involved Swinburnian verse, Why, that did _not_ transpire Something, of course, had put you out, Or, otherwise, why did you deem It meet to wildly rave and scream, And throw those adjectives about With which your stanzas teem? And as you always in past time Have been a struggling nation’s friend, And hastened Freedom to defend, So doubtless now your angry rhyme Has the same worthy end. And, granting this, we then can find Who are the men you would asperse, And why you wrote such raving verse:―― Of course, it must have been designed To Ireland’s tyrants curse! “The clamorous crew” you write about; The fierce “blood-mongers” you decry; The men who “stand in shame so high” These are the landlord-set, no doubt, Who pity’s plea deny. The men who “steal and skulk and flee”―― Why, it is plain you mean by these Those heartless, greedy absentees, Who, to live on in luxury, Their cruel rack-rents seize. These are the “shameless gang,” ’tis clear, From whose “red hands” nor “dew nor rain” Can ever “cleanse the blood again”; And to whose hearts, so hard and sere, Appealing is in vain. Yes, ’tis these landlords, who disdain To pity, though poor “children die Starved”; and though helpless women lie On the hill-side, ’neath sleet and rain, Thrust from their homes hard by. And ’tis their tenants, too, who fight Vainly against the ruthless power That leaves their lives “no joyful hour,” Nor gives them e’en the “natural right To claim life’s natural dower.” Well may you ask, with stern surprise, Why men, who thus their duty shirk, And do, in sooth, “a murderous work,” Do not seem “hideous in our eyes As Austrian or as Turk?” Well may you call the landlord crew, “The cowardliest hounds that blood e’er lapp’d;” And hint they should be “track’d and trapp’d,” Whilst we that “woful past undo,” Which chains on Erin clapp’d.