_There!!!_ Egotistic ways are my abhorrence; But if this masterpiece were only hung In the Uffizi Gallery at Florence, Where LEIGHTON, like a god, ambrosial, young, And MILLAIS, in immortal manhood, stand, Self-limned, for admiration of posterity, I fancy that this work of my right hand Would quite eclipse mere Genius, whose temerity In challenging comparison with BIRTH Is really getting something unendurable. Aha! It moves me to sardonic mirth! To dream of _my_ position as securable By mere Bismarckian brain!!! Now, as the god, _I_ come out admirably. Form and stature, The threatening eye, and the earth-shaking nod, All, all to me are simply second nature. Globe-trampling foot, and hand that grips the bolt,-- Aye, and the lyre when I would play Apollo-- Are mine! Will low-born Genius dare revolt, Or where _I_ lead Greatness decline to follow? Absurd! I hardly know in what great guise To paint my greatness! I have sung of Ægir, But he was but a sea-god, and his size And strength compared with mine were small and meagre. I am a Joint-stock Deity, as 'twere, Olympus in a nutshell, Neptune, Mars, The Cloud-Compeller and the Sungod fair. Here I'm pure Jove. And yet somehow it jars Upon my spirit to be so restricted To one immortal guise, however grand. Hah! Gods by their own pencils thus depicted Would make a New Valhalla e'en _my_ hand Need not disdain to add to. If Narcissus Had been a painter, now! There is no stream, Though clear as my own Rhine or the Ilissus, Could do me justice. I must _paint_ my dream Of my Supernal Self. A mere reflection From Nature's mirror would but mar my beauty. No; I must limn myself for the inspection Of men and gods; it is a simple duty. _This_ does not satisfy me. And it is Too late, I fear, for Grandmamma's R.A. Besides, those English journalists _might_ quiz Even Imperial Art. They've their own way Too much by far in that ill-ordered isle, Those cheeky critic-fellows. Let _me_ catch A Teuton quill-driver who'll dare to smile Upon a masterpiece he cannot match!!! [_Left touching it up._ * * * * * LITERARY. A book is announced entitled _Irish Humour through English Glasses_. It will be followed, we hope, by a companion volume, entitled _English (ill) Humour through Irish (Whisky) Glasses_. * * * * * OUR BOOKING-OFFICE.