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 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
Come, let me now be still. He cannot harm,
Although he knits his brow, and shakes his arm.
“Let's talk of tombs, of worms,” and mortal state,
It does one good at times to meditate
On death—I mean the death of others—fools,
Who were awhile my honoured toys and tools—
Not on my own: for Proteus cannot die,
If in this Temple he hereafter lie.
I've followed to the end my settled plan,
And killed them all, and buried the last man—
For duty's sake I packed them in the shell
Myself, poor Morley, Spencer, Harcourt, and Parnell
And all the rest. I undertaker am;
I snap my fingers now at Birmingham,
And Manchester, that bullied me so long,
With their eternal drivelling Caucus song,
And cant about the people's rights and cheer,
Who do not want more freedom but more beer.
Although he knits his brow, and shakes his arm.
“Let's talk of tombs, of worms,” and mortal state,
It does one good at times to meditate
On death—I mean the death of others—fools,
Who were awhile my honoured toys and tools—
Not on my own: for Proteus cannot die,
If in this Temple he hereafter lie.
I've followed to the end my settled plan,
And killed them all, and buried the last man—
For duty's sake I packed them in the shell
Myself, poor Morley, Spencer, Harcourt, and Parnell
And all the rest. I undertaker am;
506
And Manchester, that bullied me so long,
With their eternal drivelling Caucus song,
And cant about the people's rights and cheer,
Who do not want more freedom but more beer.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |