Several excellent imitations of Swinburne’s style remain to be quoted from _Punch_, one, which appeared January 7, 1882, entitled “_Clowning and Classicism_,” contains some skits on Burne Jones, Oscar Wilde, and John Ruskin; another, dated December 11, 1886, commences as follows:―― BABYDOM. _A Contribution to the Poetry of Pap._ Baby, see the flowers! ――Baby sees Other things than these. Baby, our soft age’s first of powers. Baby, hear the birds! ――Baby’s nose Cocks at sounds like those. Baby rules our deeds and thoughts and words. Baby, want the moon? ――Baby’s eyes Blink in blue surprise. Baby is the boss of night and noon. Baby, hear the sea! ――Baby’s face Permeates all space, Filled with noises of the nursery. * * * * * The next appeared on April 23, 1887:―― THE VULTURES; OR, WHAT OF THE FIGHT. (_A Suggestion from Swinburne._) England, what of the fight?―― The fight that may come again, When the ridge of the battle-plain By the last lurid sun-ray is lit, And thou in thine armèd might Hast fought the good fight, and thy men Lie low where the night-birds flit,―― What then, oh land, what then? Prophet, what of the fight? What is the vision you see? England the stubbornly free, Erect, ’midst the whirl of her waves. Harbours _she_ traitors and slaves, Harpies, of gold-worship bred, Who grope for their gain amongst graves That hide the hosts of her dead? (_Four verses omitted._) Vultures, what of the fight?―― Ah! but ye crowd for gain. Little care ye for the slain. Only your maws to cram. There they be in the night, Sold for your sakes to death. System? A scoundrel sham That leaves ye with wings and breath! England, what of that fight?―― Rouse you, and raise a hand. These Vultures swarm in the land, Incompetence, traitrous greed. Scourge them to headlong flight, Vermin of office and mart, Ere the harpies batten indeed, Their beaks in the nation’s heart. ―――― “According to a certain critic,” said the _Daily News_ in August, 1888, Mr. Swinburne “makes ‘services’ rhyme to ‘berries.’ How in the world does he manage that? Can it be in a poem on Lawn Tennis?” ‘Oh, thy swift, subtle, slanting, services That skim the net, and ’scape the racket of me, Oh, thy rich, red, ripe, ruby raspberries, Oh, thy straw hat, and dainty body of thee!’ Nothing _exactly_ like this occurs in the English edition of Mr. Swinburne’s poems, but this, perhaps, shows how the thing could be done, if the poet were so inclined.” ――――