POETRY.
SONNET.
[ON READING THE RECENT UTTERANCES OF Two CABINET MINISTERS.]
AND shall an outworn juggler's brazen sneers— A purblind cynic's callous scorn—have power, Great Heart of England I in this perilous hour, To check thy noble rage, thy generous tears ; Or gild the tarnished honour of thy name, Thus sullied at their ban& ? It cannot be !
Let thy just anger throb from sea to sea, Till they who brought thee thus to open shame Shall kiss thy chastening rod and do thy will,— Or pass. Speak out, and tell them thou no more Dar'st bolster Power that seeks with Christian gore And outrage foul to salve its cureless ill Too long the Plague hath festered. In thy wrath, Civilisation, rise, and sweep it from thy path.