POETRY.

"THE CRY OF THE TORIES."

IN showers of gold and tinsel and enamel,

The storms of Fate knocked down our Gessler's hat; But, gorged and fat with Ministerial camel, Say, shall we swallow the Northampton gnat ? Shall we, who did all sorts of things at Berlin (Though what precisely has been never known), Yet failed by that to keep our mighty Earl in, Not rally still around the Church and Throne ?

'Oh ! noble army of Disraeli's martyrs, Can we not spare our land this crowning shame ? Amid a galaxy of stars and garters Ye have, alas ! departed as ye came; But, though ye raised, in unison harmonic, The swelling chorus of "your noble selves," And gave us powder for a wholesome tonic, Which puling Peace had wasted on the shelves; And though ye freely gave the blood of others, And store of others' treasure freely spent,

-What good were Benjamin and all his brothers, If Mr. Bradlaugh sits in Parliament ?

Was it for this we saw the star of Honour Shine ever brighter o'er our cherished land, While every Christian blessing fell upon her, As if at last Millennium were at hand ?

-Was it for this, that truthfulness unswerving

Marked every word that dropped from Salisbury's tongue ?

For this, that Beaconsfield's unselfish serving Has set a pattern to the Tory young ?

Was it for this we sate, enthralled and moulded

By fiery Northcote's adamantine will ?

-Or listened, with closed eyes and arms enfolded, To Cross's silvery speech, seductive still ? Was it for this, that one should sit beside us,

To take an oath or leave it nothing loath ? -Think of the difference, whate'er divide US,

Between an affmnation and an oath !

'Oh gentle Cranbrook, and majestic Manners !

Oh Cairns, contemptuous of a legal plea!

-Clear was our conscience 'neath your stainless banners, Ye patterns of an olden chivalry.

Not in our rule could Peace dishonour Glory,—

We would not back the weak against the strong; What gentleman, that boasts the name of Tory, Ever apologised when he was wrong ?

-Oh, abject shame ! Oh, sole surviving scion Yet left of Hamilton's historic stock, Well might'st thou wag thy tail, deserted lion, And blush all over at so rude a shock !

-" Fain ce que je veux, advienne qne ponrra!" was The motto of our chief through thick and thin, And blind obedience to the guiding star was Our answering principle, to keep him in. We are not clever, and full well he knew it, Who led us blithely by the willing nose; Oh, mystic mantle ! if aside he threw it, Would all his stout Elishas come to blows ?

We gave him all, and chuckled when he sold us,

And broke the Ten Commandments at his nod; We would have broken twenty, if he told us, In adoration of our Jingo-God.

For him we left the old and honest highways, With secret bargains smuggled in the dark, And wildering strayed in Statecraft's stifled byways, Till thorns and thistles hid Light's smouldering spark.

For him we warred, with the light heart of Madness, And risked the Nemesis of Mercy lost ; Played with Invasion's bitter, wanton sadness, And never counted, but conceded, the cost.

For him we stirred the great heart of the Nation Into a dumb rebellion yet unknown ; And for one man's unslaked self-adulation, Shook even the loving faith which guards the Throne.

For him we talked of War, and played at Murder, And offered hecatombs of helpless lives ; And rough-rode England till the rowel spurred her Into the need that is, when Evil drives.

The cry of Conscience gave the note of warning, The arm of Honour sped the angry bolt ; And Truth and Freedom woke from night to morning, Into one strong, victorious revolt.

Then hip and thigh our startled host was smitten, Then all our glories crumbled to a fall ;

And thus we found our pedigree was written,— " By Jingo out of Office,"—after all ! H. M.