Oh, I know the quidnuncs vapour,
And that Tadpole, yes, and Taper,
Tell in many a twaddling paper,
What the few think;
But they cater for the classes,
Whilst I’m champion of the masses,
Fly before such braying asses?—­
What do you think? 
Wish is father to their thought,
Their wild hope with fear is fraught. 
They are not au fait to aught
Liberals true think. 
They imagine “Mr. Fox”
Has delivered such hard knocks
That impasse my pathway blocks!—­
What do you think? 
Just inspect me, if you please! 
Is my pose not marked by ease?
Am I going at the knees,
Like a “screw” Think! 
Pooh!  The part of Sisyphus
Suits me well.  Why make a fuss? 
Eh?  Retire,—­and leave things thus? 
What do you think? 
On the—­say the Lyric Stage—­
For some years I’ve been the rage,
And some histrios touched by age
Of Adieu think. 
But I’m like that “Awful Dad,”
Though this makes my rivals mad,
Don’t true Gladdyites feel glad? 
What do you think? 
I’m a genuine Evergreen;
It is that excites their spleen
Who my lingering on the scene
A great “do” think. 
I regret, so much, to tease them! 
My last exit would much ease them. 
But Retire!—­and just to please them! 
What do you think?

[Winks and walks round.

* * * * *

A DREAMY MADNESS.

The other night I went to bed,—­
It may seem strange, but still I did it,—­
And laid to rest my weary head
So that the bed-clothes nearly hid it;
Which was perhaps the reason why
My brain throughout the night was teeming
With truly wondrous sights, and I
Was wholly given o’er to dreaming.

  ’Twas on the Twenty-first of May,
    The streets were filled to overflowing,
  The streets, that in a curious way
    Were clean although it kept on snowing. 
  The daily papers for a change
    Came out each day without a leader,
  But, what was surely rather strange,
    They didn’t lose a single reader!

  I saw a Bishop in a tram,
    Although he knew it was a Sunday;
  The lion lay down with the lamb,
    And CLEMENT SCOTT with SYDNEY GRUNDY. 
  Professor HUXLEY said, “In truth
    I’m really sick to death of rows,” and
  Wrote there and then to General BOOTH
    To put his name down for a thousand.

  I heard that Mr. PARNELL wrote
    (Much to McCARTHY’s jubilation)
  A very kind and civil note,
    In which he sent his resignation;
  Whilst ANDREW LANG with weary air
    Professed himself completely staggered
  To think how anyone could care
    To read a line of RIDER HAGGARD.

The House of Commons talked about
The case of Mr. BRADLAUGH—­whether
The Motion which has kept him out
Should now be struck out altogether;
And OLD MORALITY arose
To say they felt no ancient animus,
And when they voted, why of Noes
There wasn’t one—­they were unanimous!