POETRY.

His shoulders stoop unblamed: Whose wrinkles speak of patriot cares,

May show them, nor be shamed. And if, sometimes, deliberate thought Too careless speech betrays, Honour to him who never sought The mob's dishonouring praise.

For he, who broke the sword of Spain, The snares Rome's fingers spun, Takes up the gloriona task again In this his greatest son.

'Tis the same steady, swordsman's mood, No foe can fret or tire : The same cool-tempered English blood, So seldom stirred to fire.

Inured betimes to manhood's toil Hard paths were his to tread.

He too from London's stony soil Has wrung reluctant bread.

There Fortune willed her favourite child* His growing wit should school ; Self-chosen from a race reviled His people's lords to rule.

• Lord Beaconsfield.

A soul of mingled metal born; Half charlatan, half seer ; He felt his fellows' haughty scorn In many a torturing sneer: Till—those high dreams that made their jest

Grown earnest ere they knew—

The tyrants that his youth oppressed Came bending to the Jew.

For Genius through his florid speech With fitful splendour burned; And all that wayward light could teach The sober novice learned: The unwelcome truths his pride disdained, In patient memory bore;

Much profit from his wisdom gained, And from his folly more.

Till, when in longed-for sleep at length That restless heart had ease, Men saw his pupil's riper strength The abandoned rudder seize.

How long the sagging helm he guides,

How faithfully and well, Through what wild storms, on what vexed tides,

His keenest foes may tell !

And though the ship of State to-day Must tempt an unknown main; Where seamen, in their trade grown grey, Confess their cunning vain; Though even now each tense-strung sheet Rings to the gathering gale, And the few, scattered barques we meet Return but surly hail; At least our lonely vessel finds A Pilot in her need ; .Who, while beneath the scourging winds She plunges like a steed, Can face, with calm, impassive brow, Strange seas and shores unscanned; And, welded to the dripping prow, One firm, unwavering hand.

EDWARD SYDNEY TEE.