E-text prepared by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this file which includes the original illustrations. See 15594-h.htm or 15594-h.zip: (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/9/15594/15594-h/15594-h.htm) or (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/5/5/9/15594/15594-h.zip) PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI VOL. 103 OCTOBER 22, 1892 IN MEMORIAM. WILLIAM HARDWICK BRADBURY. BORN, DEC. 3, 1832. DIED, OCT. 13, 1892. Large-hearted man, most loyal friend, Art thou too gone--too early lost? Our comrade true, our tireless host! Prompt to inspire, console, defend! Gone! Hearts with grateful memories stored Ache for thy loss round the old board. The well-loved board _he_ loved so well, His pride, his care, his ceaseless thought; To him with life-long memories fraught; For him invested with the spell O'er a glad present ever cast By solemn shadows of the past. That past for him, indeed, was filled With a proud spirit-retinue. Greatness long since his guest he knew. Whom THACKERAY's manly tones had thrilled; Who heard keen JERROLD's sparkling speech, And marked the genial grace of LEECH. What changes had he known, who sat With our four chiefs, of each fast friend! And must such _camaraderie_ end? Shall friendly counsel, cordial chat, Come nevermore again to us From lips with kindness tremulous? No more shall those blue eyes ray out Swift sympathy, or sudden mirth; That ever mobile mouth give birth To frolic whim, or friendly flout? Our hearts will miss thee to the end, Amphitryon generous, faithful friend! Miss thee? Alas! the void that's there No other form may hope to fill, For those who now with sorrow thrill In gazing on that vacant chair; Whither it seems he _must_ return, For whose warm hand-clasp yet we yearn. Tribute to genius all may give, Ours is the homage of the heart; For a friend lost our tears will start, Lost to our sight, yet who shall live, Whilst one who knew that bold frank face At the old board takes the old place. For those, his closer kin, whose home Is darkened by the shadow grey, What can respectful love but pray That consolation thither come In that most sacred soothing guise Which natural sorrow sanctifies. Bereavement's anguish to assuage Is a sore task that lies beyond The scope of friendship or most fond Affection's power. Yet may this page, True witness of our love and grief, To bowed hearts bring some scant relief! * * * * * "ANECDOTAGE." _COMPANION PARAGRAPH TO STORIES OF THE SAME KIND._