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 Those of the following verses which are of a political 
 character (and have already appeared in the 4 Pall Mall 
 Gazette ' and elsewhere) I commend to the public ; 
 the others to a few of my friends. 
 
 G. H. R. 
 
 977 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 TO MY FRIENDS. 
 
 I'ACF 
 
 Contentment 9 
 
 The Thames u 
 
 The Alcestis at Oxford 12 
 
 To my Friend A. B 14 
 
 An Invitation to Blankenberghe . . . .15 
 
 Retreat 17 
 
 Sunrise in the Alps 19 
 
 January to May 20 
 
 To a Plagiarist .21 
 
 A Duck's-Egg 22 
 
 The Ego and the Non-Ego ... . . 23 
 'The Laureate of the Frills' 25 
 
 TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 The Mitchelstown Ministry 29 
 
 Mr. W. S. Caine to Lord Hartington . . . . 31 
 
 Mr. Peel's Academy for Young Gentlemen . . 33 
 
 Defeat of the Matthews Ministry . • • 35 
 
 The Gathering of the * Specials ' .... 37 
 
 A Royal Rondeau 39 
 
 Lord Ailesbury's Solace 40 
 
TO MY FRIENDS 
 
CONTENTMENT. 
 
 I do not ask three acres and a cow, 
 
 Though that, it seems, is merit's minimum: 
 
 Half that estate or less contents me now, 
 And if I want some milk (to mix with rum 
 
 On winter mornings) I've discovered how 
 To buy the fluid for a trifling sum. 
 
 I'd rather hail (like Jack's all-tattered priest) 
 
 A milkmaid than a crumpled-horned beast. 
 
 So I renounce immoderate desire, 
 
 And to my having nothing seek to add : 
 
 An acre and some trees, a leafy choir 
 
 And nesting-place for birds, whose song makes glad 
 
 The pensive loafer, who will oft retire 
 
 Beneath the shade, and silent there, not sad, 
 
 Observe his homestead, or survey the sky 
 
 Between the leaves that meet and part on high. 
 
 And then there is of course a velvet lawn 
 
 Which sun and shade impress with shifting hue, 
 
 And there (I'm told) the thrushes walk at dawn 
 And meet their friends and take a snack or two 
 
 (An hour when * early Christians' only yawn, 
 And wonder what on earth they are to do) ; 
 
 A house too, fair and square, a roomy dwelling, 
 
 Which I should highly praise — if I were selling. 
 
10 
 
 And therein adequate accommodation 
 For sleeping, dining, gossip and what not, 
 
 And, what concerns me more, an aggregation 
 Of curious books, a miscellaneous lot, 
 
 Without apparent sequence or relation ; 
 
 But each one feeds some craving that I've got, 
 
 Or had ; and so they constantly delight me, 
 
 While richer shelves bewilder or affright me. 
 
 And for inhabitants (besides the swallows, 
 Who build all welcome underneath my eaves) 
 
 A cheerful wife (the Celibate who wallows 
 In solitary luxury achieves 
 
 But disillusion : no contentment follows 
 The specious plans his careful fancy weaves. 
 
 This is a truth experience enforces: 
 
 I know I'm right, because I've tried both courses). 
 
 Some children, too, who make a joyful noise, 
 A shapely, smiling crew, to whom each sense 
 
 Is mere delight : frank girls and jovial boys, 
 Who love, and say so, knowing no pretence, 
 
 Their mates, their meals, themselves, their simple toys. 
 And then their thirst for knowledge is immense. 
 
 I therefore find them excellent society, 
 
 And only seek an adult for variety. 
 
 And when a busy friend arrives from town 
 And tells me, as he samples my cigars, 
 
 How many strive, how most are beaten down, 
 How very few by skill, or lucky stars, 
 
 Or guile, attain to fortune or renown — 
 
 And these, though victors, carry ugly scars — 
 
 I love the easy nymph Contentment more, 
 
 Because she drives Ambition from my door. 
 
II 
 
 THE THAMES. 
 
 Sing, my gentle muse, I pray you, 
 
 A delicious summer song 
 Of the river where they say you 
 
 Linger all the summer long ; 
 
 Of the Thames serenely flowing 
 Past his banks of wood or lawn :' 
 
 Splendid when the sunset's glowing, 
 And superb (no doubt) at dawn. 
 
 Of the men who haunt the waters, 
 Broad of breast and brown of hue, 
 
 And of Beauty's youngest daughters 
 Perched in punt or crank canoe. 
 
 Deck your hair with water-lilies, 
 Meadow-sweet and margin flowers, 
 
 Catch the skylark's note, whose skill is 
 Unsurpassed — unless by ours. 
 
 Sing of every flower that blushes, 
 Sing of every bird that sings, 
 
 Sing of breeze-swept sedge and rushes, 
 Sing of forty thousand things. 
 
 Should you fail to sing, I spurn you, 
 And I shouldn't much object 
 
 Should a steam-launch overturn you 
 On the river you neglect. 
 
12 
 
 THE ALCESTIS AT OXFORD. 
 
 Hearken how the men at Oxford, 
 
 Acting nightly for a week, 
 Played Euripides the Human 
 
 In his own authentic Greek. 
 
 Said Admetus, King of Pherse, 
 1 Great Apollo, hear me sigh ! 
 I am death-doomed by the Moirse, 
 And I'm not prepared to die.' 
 
 1 Fateful Sisters/ said Apollo, 
 ' You must spare Admetus' life ; 
 He's a most obliging fellow, 
 And I quite admire his wife.' 
 
 Then the Sisters half relented j 
 
 They would spare the king, they said, 
 
 If some imbecile consented 
 To resign his life instead. 
 
 So Admetus asked his neighbours 
 In succession if they'd mind 
 
 Dying early to oblige him, 
 But they one and all declined. 
 
 — ITTT 1 ' 
 
13 
 
 Proudly spake his spouse Alcestis, 
 1 No one loves him like his wife ! 
 I will do what others dare not, 
 Gaily I will give my life.' 
 
 Grisly Thanatos uprising, 
 Bore away the willing queen. 
 
 In his lonely hall Admetus 
 Wailed and felt supremely mean. 
 
 Enters Heracles the jovial, 
 Hears Admetus wail his loss ; 
 
 Swears to rescue sweet Alcestis 
 Or to throttle Thanatos. 
 
 What performed the feat we know not — 
 Cunning, strength, or subtle charm — 
 
 But he soon returned triumphant 
 With Alcestis on his arm. 
 
 Then Apollo joined the party, 
 Leading in the Sisters three ; 
 
 There was laughter free and hearty 
 And prodigious revelry. 
 
 Drinking, dancing, singing paeans, 
 Thus the hours of darkness went ; 
 
 Pherae, frescoed in vermilion, 
 Showed how well the night was spent. 
 
 June 1887. 
 
14 
 
 TO MY FRIEND A. B. 
 URGING HIM TO PRINT. 
 
 The talk began upon the lawn, 
 It flagged at dinner as was meet, 
 Then rilled the pleasant hours that fleet 
 
 Between the dinner and the dawn. 
 
 The aims of thought, the joys of sense, 
 The songs that later bards have sung ; 
 Such were our themes, but yours the tongue 
 
 That gave our meaning eloquence. 
 
 And as you passed with growing force 
 
 From point to point, our weeds grew cold ; 
 Intent we listened while you rolled 
 
 The sweeping, cyclical discourse. 
 
 That night is gone, but give the press 
 The scraps, that memory may retain, 
 That we may live the night again 
 
 And strangers share our happiness. 
 
 Admit the strangers. Thus when comes 
 An end of breakfast, well content 
 We rise with air benevolent 
 
 And let the sparrows take the crumbs. 
 
 1SS4. 
 
*5 
 
 AN INVITATION TO BLANKENBERGHE. 
 
 TO A. S. W. 
 
 Come, Alfred, leave your cares at home 
 And seek this friendly Flemish strand, 
 
 Where sandhills intercept the foam, 
 Which else would overbear the land. 
 
 Here sea and sun and sea-borne breeze 
 
 Will give your life a novel zest ; 
 Here pessimists inhale with ease 
 
 And hint that all is for the best. 
 
 Here Flemings, Frenchmen, Germans flock, 
 And English— each a welcome guest — 
 
 And all live neighbourly, and mock 
 At international unrest. 
 
 And you shall join the cheerful crew 
 Who daily bathe and dine and dance, 
 
 And in the intervals pursue 
 Studies of high significance, 
 
 Striving to find the fairest face 
 
 Of maiden gay or matron grave ; 
 Who leads the dance with most of grace, 
 
 And who most boldly breasts the wave. 
 
i6 
 
 Or if the graver mood prevails 
 We'll leave the giddy company, 
 
 And watch the sunset gild the sails 
 That navigate an opal sea, 
 
 And still converse, and only pause 
 To light contemplative cigars, 
 
 While night comes on and darkness draws 
 The sheen from all the silent stars. 
 
 August 1887. 
 
'7 
 
 RETREAT. 
 
 Let the gentle angler stand 
 Knee-deep in water, rod in hand, 
 And featly cast his specious fly 
 While trout and time are fleeting by. 
 
 And let the keen pedestrian leave 
 His bed at dawn and trudge till eve 
 By dusty roads or shady lanes 
 Until his welcome inn he gains. 
 There let him of repose drink deep, 
 And count his miles and sink to sleep. 
 
 And let the ardent lover swear 
 His idol's exquisitely fair, 
 And let him tell in doleful rhyme 
 How when she's absent lags Old Time, 
 Albeit her image will arise 
 And hide all nature from his eyes. 
 And let each mortal man pursue 
 Some object he's a liking to. 
 
 But lay me in a mossy nook, 
 Beside some unpretending brook, 
 Where the bending branches seem 
 To watch their shadows in the stream, 
 And let some blackbird — not too near — 
 Sing — not too oft — in accents clear. 
 
 B 
 
i8 
 
 But let no human mortal dare 
 To sing or speak or whisper there, 
 Nor any alien sound intrude 
 To mar the sylvan solitude. 
 
 1872. 
 
19 
 
 SUNRISE IN THE ALPS. 
 
 When from the east upsprung, the lusty sun 
 Kisses the Jungfrau, and she makes no noise, 
 Then up the slopes the sturdy Alpine boys 
 And kerchiefed maidens, stealing one by one 
 From scattered chalets, drive their flocks, that run 
 Behind their tinkling wethers, leaders true, 
 Intent on pastures steeped in morning dew ; 
 Then too the prudent climber learns to shun 
 The siren sleep, and many a shady mile 
 
 He measures unperspiring, ere the sight 
 Of the near summit moves exultant smile, 
 
 And all is life and energy and light. 
 This sort of thing occurs at dawn, while deep 
 The present writer lies in dreamless sleep. 
 
 Lauterbriinnen, 1873. 
 
 B 2 
 
20 
 
 JANUARY TO MAY. 
 TRIOLET. 
 
 You steer as we sit vis-a-vis, 
 
 And look far ahead o'er the lake. 
 
 Your prospect is hidden from me, 
 
 You steer as we sit vis-a-vis. 
 
 The forms that recede in our wake 
 
 Are, saving you, all that I see. 
 
 You steer as we sit vis-a-vis, 
 
 And look far ahead o'er the lake. 
 
21 
 
 TO A PLAGIARIST. 
 TRIOLET. 
 
 I blame your design 
 To purloin from a poet ; 
 
 It would be very fine 
 
 (Though I blame your design) 
 To feloniously go it 
 If no one should know it ; 
 
 But I spot your design 
 To purloin from a poet. 
 
22 
 
 A DUCKS EGG. 
 
 TRIOLET. 
 
 Two balls I survived, 
 
 But the? third one came straight, 
 For the bowler contrived 
 
 (Seeing what I survived) 
 To bowl at a rate 
 
 I did not contemplate. 
 Two balls I survived, 
 
 But the third one came straight. 
 
23 
 
 THE EGO AND THE NON-EGO. 
 
 i. I sit on a bank and watch the glistering water. 
 
 The same breeze that fans me is coquetting with the 
 water, and the little ripples rise responsive. 
 
 2. I feel the ineffable sunshine on my cheek and the back 
 
 of my neck ; 
 And I see the water sparkling, pervaded by the same 
 beams. 
 
 3. Then I tear off the manufactured rags and rubbish 
 
 that I wear — and that we all of us wear more or 
 less. 
 Pausing a moment to enjoy the play of breeze and 
 sunshine, I plunge headlong and pass through 
 the water in a long shoot. 
 
 4. I see the stones and weeds at the bottom and the fish 
 
 lying midway ; 
 All is blue, misshapen, distorted, glorious. 
 
 5. Then rising, I turn on my right side, while my left arm 
 
 cleaves the water, and my powerful legs propel 
 me. 
 Thus I wallow through the water rejoicing. 
 
24 
 
 6. loiter I stand on the bank erect, with my hands 
 
 clasped at the back of my head : 
 I am languid and dripping. 
 
 7. Truly the Non-Ego is marvellous : the sunshine, the 
 
 breeze, the water, and the subtle intimacy and 
 distance that there is between them. 
 But this quivering frame, these muscles and bones, 
 every one of which I love, and which answer to 
 my will : the Ego (I! hang the Latin !), I, Walt 
 Whitman, am a sight more marvellous. 
 
 8. I guess this is about it ; 
 This is the Truth. 
 
25 
 
 <T//E LAUREATE OE THE FRILLS: 
 
 She wears around her shapely neck 
 The choicest folds of lace, 
 
 Which nestle in their dainty nook 
 With a tremulous embrace. 
 
 I am distracted with these charms ; 
 
 I'd give my latest dollar 
 To clasp the maiden in my arms 
 
 And osculate — her collar. 
 
TO THE PUBLIC 
 
THE MITCHELSTOWN MINISTRY. 
 
 ' The conduct of the Police stands out absolutely justified.' 
 
 Balfour. 
 1 The Cabinet to a man associate themselves with everything 
 Mr. Balfour has said.'— Goschen. 
 
 Our Ministers are not afraid, 
 They, one and all, are confident 
 
 Of power to wield all laws that aid 
 The levying of rent. 
 
 Intrepid heroes ! who would earn 
 Their wages must be resolute ; 
 
 No underling will serve their turn 
 Who hesitates to shoot 
 
 When armed police lie snug and strong 
 Behind their barrack walls, and thence 
 
 Drop volleys on a distant throng, 
 They act in self-defence. 
 
 Our valiant Ministers disdain 
 All specious talk of public right 
 
 To meet and speak, while they retain 
 The power to shoot at sight. 
 
3° 
 
 Slaughter, and blood, and scattered brains 
 They neither shun nor greatly heed. 
 
 Though Tories wince, Balfour remains 
 To justify the deed. 
 
 Whatever constables may do 
 
 By order or of private whim, 
 Balfour will praise, and all his crew 
 
 Go solidly with him. 
 
 Then hail with heartiest applause 
 
 This rent-collecting Ministry, 
 May never pedant care for laws 
 
 Impair their policy. 
 
 October 1887. 
 
3* 
 
 MR. W. S. CAINE TO LORD 
 HARTINGTON. 
 
 AN INTERCEPTED LETTER. 
 
 I hold it wise, my lord, to quit 
 This land, which undervalues me, 
 And spend twelve solid months at sea, 
 
 Or more if I should fancy it. 
 
 For truly I begin to doubt 
 
 Our power to prop the tottering state. 
 
 If we assist a candidate 
 Electors always throw him out. 
 
 And I, I jeopardise my seat 
 At Barrow every time I vote ; 
 And you — you may not care a groat — 
 
 In Rossendale await defeat. % 
 
 The less one does in times like these, 
 The less the matter for regret. 
 Constituents may well forget 
 
 Their members launched on distant seas. 
 
32 
 
 Joe Chamberlain is not unwise. 
 He finds Canadian fish to fry, 
 And hopes that in the by-and-by 
 His sunken star again may rise. 
 
 So put your men on board a ship 
 
 (Named, if you please, the Union Jack), 
 And steer them to Siam and back, 
 
 And still protract the pleasant trip, 
 
 While din of politics grows faint 
 And fainter till it fails your ear ; 
 You all may then live free from fear 
 
 Of coarse constituents' complaint. 
 
 Scorn not my counsel. Who persists 
 Most obstinately suffers most. 
 I am (although I never boast) 
 
 The shrewdest of the Unionists. 
 
 October 1887. 
 
33 
 
 MR. PEEL'S ACADEMY FOR YOUNG 
 GENTLEMEN. 
 
 I marvel, after all the threats 
 
 And namings that they've had o' me, 
 
 That members still use words too rough 
 For this select academy. 
 
 I long to see you, one and all, 
 
 Models of chaste deportment, 
 And all your language choicely culled 
 
 From a lady-like assortment. 
 
 If Ministers refuse replies, 
 
 Or stickle for formality, 
 Don't charge them with displaying whims 
 
 Or lackadaisically. 
 
 If you should find your choicest Bills 
 
 By Lords emasculated, 
 Sit still and never, never say 
 
 That noble Lords dictated. 
 
 For Peers we know are too polite 
 
 To threaten or dictate to us ; 
 And we should gratefully accept 
 
 What Ministers may state to us. 
 
34 
 
 I will prepare and put in type, 
 During the long vacation, 
 
 A manual of etiquette 
 
 For members' information, 
 
 Wherein you'll find in handy forms 
 (A neat and useful notion) 
 
 All the permitted epithets 
 For authorised emotion. 
 
 And if you disobey my book, 
 Which Mr. Smith will send you, 
 
 I gravely swear by Mace and Chair 
 I'll instantly suspend you. 
 
 September 1887. 
 
35 
 
 THE DEFEAT OF THE MATTHEWS 
 MINISTRY. 
 
 Hearken how the Tory party, 
 
 Ill-supported by their ' crutch/ 
 Lately came a cruel cropper, 
 
 Which has hurt them very much. 
 
 Mister Secretary Matthews, 
 
 Supercilious in his tones, 
 Snubbed the Durham Miners' member, 
 
 Worthy son of Ernest Jones. 
 
 4 Newton rightly judged,' said Matthews, 
 
 * That the milliner was gay. 
 Vice begins to stalk at twilight ; 
 Virtue only walks by day. 
 
 * I decline to make inquiry ; 
 To inquire is always weak. 
 I suspect the lady's story ; 
 I exonerate the Beak.' 
 
 Jones expressed dissatisfaction ; 
 
 Moved, * The House do now adjourn.' 
 Matthews eyed his manly colleagues 
 
 In stupid unconcern. 
 
36 
 
 Chamberlain for once protested, 
 And a ' Unionist ' named Caine 
 
 (Clearly now the crutch was cracking 
 Hardly equal to the strain). 
 
 So the frolic Blenheim Bantam 
 
 Said his caustic little say ; 
 And tjie Boss of all the Bookstalls 
 
 Floundered feebly in the fray. 
 
 Then the grave attorney Webster 
 Bravely plunged to save his chief, 
 
 But the House was up in earnest, 
 And the Tories went to grief. 
 
 Honour to the House of Commons ! 
 
 Infamy attend the clique 
 Who would brand a blameless maiden 
 
 And uphold a brutal beak ! 
 
 July 1887. 
 
37 
 
 THE GATHERING OF THE 'SPECIALS: 
 
 Come every rowdy Johnny 
 
 And every idle tout, 
 And join the ragged army 
 
 The Beaks are calling out. 
 Let every smug assistant 
 
 From every Tory shop 
 Swear something on a bible 
 
 And sally forth to ' cop.' 
 
 We've duped some honest dullards 
 
 Who've joined our valiant force, 
 To further Law and Order, 
 
 But that's all rot, of course. 
 All law that curbs our actions 
 
 We stoutly disavow j 
 Order shall never rob us 
 
 Of any lurid row. 
 
 With batons armed, and badges 
 
 Adorning every arm, 
 We hope to fill the people 
 
 With genuine alarm. 
 To pound the unarmed radical 
 
 Andjmaim' the artisan 
 Will elevate our party 
 
 More than the Primrose can. 
 
38 
 
 And if we should feel timid 
 
 (As heroes often may), 
 Police will close around us 
 
 And shield us from the fray. 
 So bravely strut and swagger, 
 
 And greatly do and dare, 
 And leave your awful truncheon 
 
 To your immediate heir. 
 
 November 1887. 
 
39 
 
 \ 
 
 A ROYAL RONDEAU: 
 
 BEING THE QUEEN'S COMMENT ON THE 
 QUEEN'S SPEECH. 
 
 I'm made to say : / trust the laws 
 Concerning Ireland'' s state may cause 
 Conciliation and content, 
 Give industry encouragement, 
 And peace and order due applause. 
 I passed this false and canting clause, 
 As Queens must do, but here I pause, 
 And own that what I now repent 
 I'm made to say. 
 
 For Peace from Irish soil withdraws 
 
 And open Murder overawes 
 
 My outlawed people, wrung for rent, 
 And Famine hovers imminent, 
 
 While I, poor Queen, repeat the saws 
 I'm made to say. 
 
 September 1887. 
 
4o 
 
 LORD AILESBURTS SOLACE. 
 
 The House of Lords for Ailesbury ! 
 
 Although the Jockey Club's decree 
 Expels me from each chaste retreat 
 Where sporting peers and blacklegs meet, 
 
 The Gilded Chamber still is free. 
 
 We peers are not exclusive : we 
 Receive adulterer and cheat. 
 
 We force no reprobate to flee 
 
 The House of Lords. 
 
 Avoided by society 
 
 I shun the coarse democracy, 
 
 Which jeers upon me in the street. 
 My isolation were complete 
 But that one haunt remains to me — 
 
 The House of Lords. 
 November 1887.