With reason you bid “England bow, Lest worst befall her yet”; and swear That nought, save pity, conscience, care, Truth and mercy, should be now Her sister Erin’s share. But, frantic poet, none the less, When next your angry feelings egg You into verse like Silas Wegg, Do try your meaning to express More clearly, let us beg. ’Tis vain, in fact, for you to use Such very gory epithets, And terms involved, and sounding threats, If all the time your shrieking Muse Sense utterly forgets. And truly, if you thus again Should in the _Telegraph_ break out, Its readers, there is little doubt, When they have tried to find in vain Whom ’tis you fain would flout. Will bid you to the fact recall That empty sound and fury blind, And words ambitiously designed, Must needs be worthless, one and all, Unless with sense combined. And you will be assailed with blame, “The lips of all will laugh you dead,” “And mockery shriek round your head,” Whilst you live on to hear with shame Your reputation’s fled! ――――:o:―――― CLEAR THE WAY! Clear the way, my lords and lackeys! you have had your day. Here you have your answer――England’s yea against your nay: Long enough your House has held you: up, and clear the way! Lust and falsehood, craft and traffic, precedent and gold, Tongue of courtier, kiss of harlot, promise bought and sold, Gave you heritage of empire over thralls of old. Now that all these things are rotten, all their gold is rust, Quenched the pride they lived by, dead the faith and cold the lust, Shall their heritage not also turn again to dust? By the grace of these they reigned, who left their sons their sway: By the grace of these, what England says her lords unsay: Till at last her cry go forth against them――Clear the way! By the grace of trust in treason knaves have lived and lied! By the force of fear and folly fools have fed their pride: By the strength of sloth and custom reason stands defied. Lest perchance your reckoning on some latter day be worse, Halt and hearken, lords of land and princes of the purse, Ere the tide be full that comes with blessing and with curse. Where we stand, as where you sit, scarce falls a sprinkling spray; But the wind that swells, the wave that follows, none shall stay: Spread no more of sail for shipwreck: out, and clear the way! ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE. _The Pall Mall Gazette._ August 19, 1884. ―――― RAIL AWAY! (Written by an aspiring young poet of the Neo-Billingsgate School in humble imitation of the “Clear the Way!” contributed by Mr. Swinburne to a recent number of the _Pall Mall Gazette_.)