ilLLiNG. 
 
 
 Local Lyrics. 
 
 BX 
 
 H. KNIGHT. 
 
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 iiliADb'i 
 
 \ lUKSmUEMAX" NEW&PAPjp COMPAQ- Y, LIMITEI', 
 
 AM) ALL BQOi^KlVKltS. 
 
 »
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 LOCAL LYEICS.
 
 LOCAL LYEICS. 
 
 BY 
 
 H. KNIGHT. 
 
 JiKAUl'OllI) : 
 
 " Vm?KS]III{KM.\\ " XEWSrAPP]R COMPANY, [JMITKI), 
 
 AND AI,L I{Or)k'SI';r.LKI<S.
 
 WJl. IIYLES AND SONS, PRINTERS, BRADFORD.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Odes to Eminent Personages — 
 
 To W. L. Jackson, Esq., M.P 5 
 
 To John Barian, Esq., M.P 6 
 
 To Sir Edward Baines, Kt 7 
 
 To Sir George Morrison, Kt 9 
 
 To Arclnbald A\niitliam Scarr, Esq 10 
 
 To Edward Butler, Esq 11 
 
 One Danger of Parliamentary Candidature 12 
 
 John Jenkins 14 
 
 Eureka: A Fragment 17 
 
 The Asses, the Lion, and the Cockatoo 19 
 
 The Keign of Morality 21 
 
 The Leeds Conservative Alderman 23 
 
 Hunted Down 25 
 
 The Question of Over-Pressure Again 30 
 
 The Virtuous Editor 32 
 
 The Fall of Humility 34 
 
 The Hival's Vengeance ^ ... 36 
 
 The Force of Argument 39 
 
 Lines to a Much-Esteemed Leeds Vkar 40 
 
 Thu Old Clock in the Tower 42 
 
 Strict EcoNOMy 43 
 
 A KuMNG Passion 46 
 
 The Conscientious Grocer 47 
 
 Nemesis ... 49 
 
 The Christian Englishman 51 
 
 Hu.mility 52 
 
 To Nature: A Complaint 53 
 
 TtiE Astute Heathen 54 
 
 Connected with Trade 57 
 
 Done in the Darkness 58 
 
 CiiAKLKs George Gordon 59 
 
 937GS^
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 ODES TO EMINENT PEESONAGES. 
 
 To W. L. JACKSON, Esq., M.P. 
 
 In days gone by, when Persian captains led, 
 On glory bent, their serried hosts to battle, 
 
 They hired poets— so the legend said — • 
 To cheer their camp ; and when the deadly rattle 
 
 Of hostile arms lapsed for a season, they 
 
 Employed those bards to sing a roundelay. 
 
 So, now my Lawies, when yoiir wordy fray 
 
 Has lulled, at length, although your eyes still glisten 
 
 With warlike ardour, prithee turn away 
 
 To some cool shade, where you, in peace, may listen 
 
 The while the bard, in plaintive number, sings 
 
 Of your career, and divers other things. 
 
 'Tis said, by whom I know not, at your birth. 
 Whilst still you lay enshrined within your cradle — 
 
 A human snowdrop peeping from the earth — ■ 
 Your infant jaws contained no silver ladle : 
 
 A stupid oversight — by Nature's fluke, 
 
 You found yourself a tanner — not a duke. 
 
 And yet the fairies, who are said to trace 
 Man's fate ere birth, refused to leave you stranded 
 
 Upon the desert shores of Common-place ; 
 To struggle on, unarmed and single-handed. 
 
 They named you " Lawies." Had they wished you ill. 
 
 They might have blighted you with simple " Bill." 
 
 " Bill Jackson." Ah, oiwrapped in such a name, 
 Cursed liy a term so bare and uncuphonious. 
 
 Though born a statesman, still unknown to Fame, 
 You might have died a rat, like poor Polonius ; 
 
 Your " proper xjerson " hidden from men's gaze 
 
 Behind the arras of a homely ))hrase.
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 But " William Lawios," soon this waftod thee 
 Beyond the vulgar liord of men and tanners ; 
 
 It hatu a ring of " old nobilitio " 
 Which well might soften even Lord John Manners. 
 
 Thus souii you elimlx'd to Rank's select resorts, 
 
 And passed from kips to Councils and to Courts. 
 
 Yet would I not malign you. For although 
 To some the gods have given lungs like bellows, 
 
 And such, by mere abnormal power to blow 
 
 Their own brass trumpets, soar above their fellows ; 
 
 Success like yours a man alone attains 
 
 By two possessions — honesty and bi'ains. 
 
 Plain people like you, Lawios, for they feel 
 
 That when your mind once forms a clear conviction 
 
 You let tliem have it straight, and off the reel, 
 Without a deluge of verbose restriction. 
 
 You do not use your sword in Truth's redoubt 
 
 To cut a dozen boles for getting out. 
 
 Sucb men alone can rule ; the rank and file 
 
 Despise commanders whose extreme good-breeding 
 
 Prompts them to turn, and with benignant smile 
 Request their troops to come and do the leading. 
 
 The bard eschews all party — still no less 
 
 He loves those traits which merit all success. 
 
 To JOHN BARRAN, Esq., M.P. 
 
 But, on second thoughts, perhaps it would be better for Mr. Barrau to speak 
 for himself, which, with your kind iiermission, he will proceed to do, after 
 the manner of Gauia, of Princess Ida celebrity. 
 
 If you give me your attention I will tell you hoAv I came 
 
 To achieve my proud position and my legislative fame ; 
 
 How I passed from youthful garments of a kind the world calls " slop," 
 
 To arise, a second Phoenix, from the ashes of the shop ; 
 
 How I grew, at length, so haughty that I not unfrequeutly 
 
 Speak of my friend Mr. Gladstone, and ask Herbert in to tea ; 
 
 How to climb, in short, life's ladder I'll unfold to you the plan ; 
 
 For though everybody sees that I'm a most successful man, 
 
 Many don't know why. 
 
 When I started on life's journey, the traditional half-crown 
 Formed the sum of my possessions, but I sneered at Fortune's frown. 
 With the wide world for mine oyster, and a needle's tiny blade 
 For a sword to force it open, I went in at once for trade.
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 I was yiiung and energetic — I am energetic still — 
 
 Ee my task to frame a garment or a County Franchise Bill — 
 
 1 am ever energetic, ami, when my career I scan, 
 
 To discover how I came to be a most successful man, 
 
 That's one reason why. 
 
 The successful playwright, Shalrspeare, is reported to have said, 
 
 *' A. tide occurs in men's affairs, which, taken at a head, 
 
 Leads a person on to fortune," and, though this remark was made 
 
 Without any special bearing on the wholesale clothiag trade, 
 
 I adopted it without reserve, it seemed to me to say : — 
 
 " Go forth, O John, and conquer, in a wholesale kind of way. 
 
 Go forth and clothe humanity as cheaply as you can." 
 
 So I clothed it, and I am to-day a most successful man. 
 
 You will all see why. 
 
 Thus, " Energy and Promptitude " became my golden rule. 
 
 And I picked up elocution at a local Sunday school. 
 
 On discovering my intellect I strove to be refined, 
 
 And I steadily developed the resources of my mind. 
 
 I became, you know, a councillor, an alderman, a mayor, 
 
 And the cry of " Vote for Barran " rent, at length, the startled air. 
 
 Then the race for junior membership victoriously I ran. 
 
 And my rivals murmured, " Barran seems a most successful mau. 
 
 And we can't tell why." 
 
 On my legislating powers my detractors set slight store. 
 
 But my friends respect and trust me, and I ask for nothing more. 
 
 I'm a " risen " man, snobs whisper. I'm plebeian in the eyes 
 
 Of the men who haven't risen, and who haven't brains to rise. 
 
 But this doesn't weigh upon me ; I can bear it, never fear ; 
 
 1 don't grudge these hiunan failures the small solace of a sneer. 
 
 So, farewell till next election, and I'll end as I began. 
 
 With the brief and simple statement, I'm a most successful man. 
 
 And you now know why. 
 
 To Sir EDWARD BAINES, Kt. 
 
 Last night, Sir Edward, in liis gloomy den. 
 
 The bard reclined. Dark waxed his weary soitl ; 
 With deep dislike he viewed his fellow-men, 
 
 And loathed existence, taken as a whole. 
 (J rim Indigestion held him in its thrall, 
 
 Tlie Bilious demon sat upon his chest. 
 And these twin-fiends first diijped his pen in gall. 
 
 Then bade liiin write, — and ho, at tlicir request 
 (At their insistauco rather), racked his brains 
 To write some lines on thee — Sir Edward Baines.
 
 8 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 Quotli Indigestion, " Here, my friend, is game 
 
 For even thy weak arrows ; barb thy shaft 
 (His fads and fancies oft'er theo fair aim) 
 
 VVith all the cunning of thy rhyming craft ; 
 You know your cue — a narrow moral code — 
 
 A home-made saint, who sorrowfully wends 
 His way to heaven, by a private road. 
 
 With 'Mv. Williins and a few choice friends, 
 All self-backed favourites, who are bound to win 
 Against a field so handicapped by sin." 
 
 " Remember, too," 'twas Biliousness who spoke — 
 
 " Sir Edward and his clique for many a year 
 Contrived the drama in their town to choke, 
 
 And snubbed poor Shakspeare with their frown austere j 
 .For them, the land whereon the mighty dead 
 
 May walk again, and speak to toiling men 
 Their noblest thoughts, seemed little save a bed 
 
 For rearing seeds of vice ; their voice and pen 
 Conspired to slang fair Thespia, till men came 
 To hold her as a njTiiph of doubtful fame." 
 
 Then to the bard there came another form^ 
 
 A gentler spirit with a sweet, sad face, 
 (She may have been Tobacco) and her warui 
 
 And fragrant breath beatified the place. 
 " An old, old man," she murmured, " my friend, 
 
 Wlio in his boyhood saw a rough, hard way — 
 ' The path of Duty ' — nearly to the end 
 
 His feet have traced it now, and day by day 
 He ti'avels on , the goal grows very near. 
 Well, after all, a true, a brave career. 
 
 " He may have made mistakes ! Wby, even you. 
 
 My gentle poet, have gone wrong at times. 
 Go, ask your conscience for a nearer view 
 
 Of your array of half-forgotten crimes, 
 Let those assist to moderate your zeal. 
 
 Your various villanies should be applied 
 To calm your judgment when you come to deal 
 
 With one ' whose failings lean to virtue's side.' " 
 This said — she paused— the bard is still in doubt 
 Whether she vanished, or— his pipe went out.
 
 LOCAL LYEICS. 
 
 To Sir GEOEGE MOREISON, Kt., Town Clerk ok Leeds. 
 
 Dear George, — Excuse the slight faniiliarity 
 
 Involved in this address, I am aware 
 Our hands have never met, that wide disparity 
 
 Exists between us, still I pay a share 
 Of thy — forgive me — screw, and therefore, mark, 
 To some extent you're mine — my own Town Clerk. 
 
 Mine ! O the bliss to be thy part proprietor ; 
 
 To own some bit of thee, however slight. 
 My sorrows fade, my restless soul grows quieter, 
 
 When I regard myself in this glad light. 
 Yet here let me repress pride's joyous tear 
 To briefly glance at thy unique career. 
 
 When first you sought, in youth's unchecked hilarity, 
 
 The post you ably fill, a Council elf. 
 To culture strange, remarked with cool barbarity, 
 
 "Well ? What have you to say, sir, for yourself ? " 
 " I've much to say," you answered. Well, my lad, 
 I'U do you justice, you were right — you bad. 
 
 You said it well. Your own superiority 
 You proved by argument so free from flaw 
 
 That they who heard you bowed to your authority 
 As though your merit were a point of law ; 
 
 And even Archie let the matter pass, 
 
 Nor set your worth at " happen awf o' t'brass." 
 
 Thus then you gained the post. The apt facility 
 With which you jjolish off vexed legal points 
 
 Stands second only to your known ability 
 For doing justice to the Mayoral joints. 
 
 The Borough's oracle, the Boai-d's High Priest, 
 
 You grace alike the Council and the feast. 
 
 And then a thrill ran through the glad community 
 Because the Queen, in pity for its dearth 
 
 Of noble luds, has grasped the opportunity 
 To add her tribute to your moral worth. 
 
 lu waterworks, not war, you took delight. 
 
 And studious days now make a man a knight. 
 
 Take, then, my blessing. May thy vast profundity 
 Of legal knowledge long remain our atay. 
 
 Long may thy form retain its fair rotundity. 
 Thy locks repel Time's envious streaks of grey, 
 
 In brief, dear George, accept a humble bard's 
 
 S ncero good wishes and most kind regards.
 
 10 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 To AKCUiBALl) WIIITIIAM SCARE, Esq. 
 
 'Tis strange how frequently tlie good and great 
 Their life's real missioa treat with cold neglect, 
 How constantly men scorn and underrate 
 Their truest title to the world's respect — 
 The gentle bard is ever deeply pained 
 When heaven-sent genius comes to lose its way 
 And in small trivial pathways drifts astray. 
 Blind to the summits which it might have gained. 
 
 Such, " Archie," is your case. Yon may opine, 
 IS'o doubt you do, that your colossal mind 
 Is hardly framed to weave the spells divine 
 Of genial humour, which delight mankind. 
 " Oh, no," you cry, " be mine a sterner task. 
 The noisome drain, the dreary rough highway ; 
 My brow is formed not for the jester's bay— 
 Jn Council glories rather let me bask." 
 
 But, Archie, there are poets who, although 
 
 Their names on Fame's wide scroll are rarely found. 
 
 Unconsciously, sweet inspiration throw 
 
 (As roses do their scent) on all around. 
 
 And you are one of these— When Fancy flags, 
 
 How oft before the wearied witling's eyes, 
 
 A gentle faii-y somehow seems to rise 
 
 with " Frewt o' t'Bible " or with " Lucky Bags." 
 
 No pantomime has taken place for years 
 
 In which you have not played a noble part, 
 
 You cheered the downcast, dried the orphan's tears. 
 
 And raised a burden fi'omthe widow's heart. 
 
 Yet, still, though nature with the greatest pains 
 
 Has framed you to amuse the human race, 
 
 You roughly hurl her favours in her face. 
 
 And waste your genius, as I said, on drains. 
 
 Fun is your mission. Leave all meaner things 
 To low ambition, and the pride of Brown, 
 Or Smith, or Robinson, and spread yovrr wings 
 For nobler flights. A fairer, brighter crown 
 Awaits thee ; Come ! exert thy fertile vein. 
 If now unconsciously you lend wit aid. 
 Surely, by strict attention to the trade. 
 As great Joke Causer you in time may reign.
 
 LOCAL LYEICS. 11 
 
 To EDWARD BUTLER, Esq., 
 
 Chairman of the Leeds School Board. 
 
 At dead of night, hi his accustomed cliair, 
 
 The poet sits ; a strange unholy glare 
 
 Lurks in his eyes ; anon , a fiendish smile 
 
 Plays on his pallid lips, he grasps the while 
 
 His hai'dest pen ; then in envenomed ink 
 
 He drives it fiercely to the hilt, and bends his brows to think. 
 
 To think ! for on that morn a voice had said — 
 
 " This night, O minion, take the School Board's head, 
 
 That is, its Chairman ; for a subject write 
 
 An ode to that Chief Butler, keen and bright, 
 
 And if from virtue's path he strays one jot. 
 
 Drive mercy firmly from thy heart, and let him have it hot ! " 
 
 Thrice happy, then, behold the man of rhyme, 
 
 For, steeped himself in every class of crime. 
 
 He can detect and with peculiar gi-ace 
 
 Set forth the errors of the human race ; 
 
 Thus, my Edward, he proceeds in haste 
 
 To scan the lengthy page whereon thy public life is traced. 
 
 He gazes long, then a dolorous sigh 
 
 Bursts from his lips, and sad tears dim his eye ; 
 
 Though in all crannies of thy life he peers, 
 
 He finds no subject suitable for sneers ; 
 
 Indeed, the bai-d regretfully must say 
 
 Such lives, so far as cynics go, are simply thrown away. 
 
 Before that bard uprises an old man 
 
 Whose days have passed in peace ; to raise the ban 
 
 With which the demons Crime, and Want, and Care 
 
 Blacken the souls of men which God made fair, 
 
 Is his self-ordered task, and in his eyes. 
 
 Truly, to raise one wretched heart is nobler than to rise. 
 
 So mild is he, he would not even harm 
 A licensed victualler, a potent charm 
 
 Pervades his ev'ry Here, stop, hang it all. 
 
 The bard forgets his trade, 'tis his to call 
 
 Attention to men' s faults, so, much depressed. 
 
 He seeks once more for motives low, O Edward, in thy breast. 
 
 Ha, ha ! Eureka ! Now, at length, 'tis clear 
 
 As is the sun at noon-tide. Thy career 
 
 Has been, with sul)tlo spite, kept free from stain. 
 
 To cheat bard-working bards, and cause them pain. 
 
 Ah ! well might Burns exclaim, with bitter wink — 
 
 "Man's inhumanity to man makes countless thousands drink."
 
 12 LOCAL LTRICS. 
 
 Cease then, good Chairman, to defraud the muse, 
 Pity poor satirists — their slend(;r screws 
 Depend on human error ; thou c:iiist still 
 Atone for thy past conduct ; prithee kill 
 One puny stripling, forgo one. little hill, 
 (iet tight at intervals, and from to-day 
 In meekness thy petitioner will ever pray. 
 
 ONE DAN&EE OF PA3ILIAMENTARY 
 CANDIDATUEE. 
 
 SUGGESTED BY RECENT ELECTIONS. 
 
 Frail human nature, all must own. 
 
 Though good in most respects, 
 Is somehow genei'ally prone 
 
 To have some slight defects, 
 The person's somewhat rare, I guess, 
 
 Wliose whole career has hecn 
 One long sweet dream of holiness, 
 
 Unruffled and serene. 
 
 The only man, in any sense. 
 
 Who seemed to me to reach 
 This standard of true excellence 
 
 Was Hezekiah Leech. 
 Yet, stay, with his I ought to link 
 
 The name of Simpson Brown ; 
 Yes, he, with Leech, I rather think 
 
 Must share true Virtue's crown. 
 
 Both based their lives, this saintly pair, 
 
 On copy hooks' stern rules. 
 And both were deeply loved in their 
 
 Respective Sunday Schools. 
 They rarely drank — when jovial souls 
 
 Prayed them dull care to bilk, 
 By quaffing punch from flowing bowls, 
 
 They took a glass of milk. 
 
 Now here, the cynical may say. 
 
 That friends clasped hand in hand 
 May safely tread a thorny way. 
 
 Where one would fail to stand ; 
 But, though the fact cau't be denied. 
 
 That heart may strengthen heart, 
 My heroes happened to reside 
 
 A thousand miles apart.
 
 LOCAL LYBICS. 13 
 
 In their respective towns tliey reigned 
 
 As Virtue's chosen knights, 
 And they were both (though deeply pained) 
 
 Inckided with the sights. 
 When noble guests sought either town, 
 
 The kindly mayor of each 
 Would take them down to look at Brown, 
 
 And catch a glimpse of Leech. 
 
 Thus, worshipped by each looker-on, 
 
 Fast sped the waniug years, 
 And trouble cast no shade upon 
 
 Their innocent cai-eers. 
 But, see, grim Fate begins to frown. 
 
 Two deputations wait. 
 One at the door of Simpson BrowTi, 
 
 And one at Leech's gate. 
 
 Our gentle friends were thus beguiled 
 
 (Both acting for the best) 
 To leave their homes, where Fortune smiled, 
 
 A borough to contest ; 
 (How oft men drift to hidden goals 
 
 Urged by relentless Fates) 
 And thus they met, these sinless souls, 
 
 As rival candidates. 
 
 In strict accordance with the laws 
 
 Which rule election strife, 
 Each party cast about for flaws 
 
 In its opponent's life. 
 And each committee let in turn 
 
 (A rare event, indeed) 
 The light of jDlayful Fancy bui'n. 
 
 To meet this pressing need. 
 
 First, Brown's Committee spread the tal 
 
 (One's sense of right it shocks) 
 That Mr. Leech had been in gaol 
 
 For keeping fighting cocks. 
 Then Leach's friends stepped forth to state 
 
 How Brown, in early life, 
 Had killed a well-known magistrate 
 
 And bolted with his wife. 
 
 Thus, day by day our friends amassed 
 
 A frightful load of sin. 
 Until election day had past 
 
 (I don't know which got in).
 
 11 LOCAL LViUCS. 
 
 And tlien tlu> rivals homeward turned 
 
 Their weary footsteps — fain 
 To greet the friends they fancied yearned 
 
 To worship them again. 
 
 But when to their respective towns 
 
 They came, at length, in glee. 
 The people gazed on them with frowns 
 
 Most terrible to see. 
 No longer tilled with glowing pride, 
 
 The Mayors before them bowed, 
 Tlie Councils wrung their hands and sighed, 
 
 The Town Clerks wept aloud. 
 
 " We thought," exclaimed each stricken Mayor, 
 
 In accents faint and low, 
 "Your life was blameless, jmre, and fair, 
 
 We now know all, — pray, go ! 
 Pray, leave the town your sins degrade, 
 
 Fly ! fly to distant climes, 
 Ere we call in the haugsman's aid 
 
 To expiate your crimes." 
 
 JOHN JENKINS. 
 
 A MUNICIPAL BALLAI.. 
 
 John Jenkins was a voter free, 
 
 And you would hardly find 
 In his municipality 
 
 A man of broader mind 
 Or clearer views ! The jirescnt bard 
 i'or Jenkins had a deep regard. 
 
 Now, although sound shrewd common sense 
 Seemed linked with Jenkins's name. 
 
 To lofty moral excellence 
 He had the highest claim. 
 
 Black vice — weak mortal's bitter cup — 
 
 Had practically chucked him up. 
 
 Stern piinciple in Jenkins' eyes 
 
 Was fair and pleasing too. 
 And he adored, without disguise, 
 
 The logically true. 
 " The logically true," said he — 
 " Now that's the kind of thing for me."
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 15 
 
 Now, wlien election time drew near, 
 
 Jobn Jenkins, led by Fate, 
 One evening wandered out to liear 
 
 A certain candidate 
 Expatiate with modest grace 
 On his own fitness for a place. 
 
 In moling terms John heard him dwell 
 
 Upon his own nni(|ue 
 Ability for fitting well 
 
 The post he came to seek. 
 (A person framed by Natnre's care. 
 To save that Ward from black despair.) 
 
 " I am," the candidate confessed, 
 
 " A Tory bred and born, 
 All Kadicals I loathe, detest, 
 
 And gaze upon with scorn." 
 (Yet stay, perhaps the speaker said 
 He loathed the Tory crew instead.) 
 
 (Confound it all, I quite forget 
 
 The real expression used, 
 No matter.) He the other set 
 
 Most volubly abused. 
 (To save confusion, we'll decide 
 The Tories were the lot decried.) 
 
 He showed, that gentle candidate. 
 
 How Tories, one and all, 
 Lay crushed beneath the chilling weight 
 
 Of Ignorance's thrall. 
 How they, politically blind, 
 Could do no good of any kind. 
 
 He showed how men who failed to see 
 
 Engraved in every line 
 Of Gladstone's Foreign Policee 
 
 Unnumbered beauties shine, 
 Must wildly muddle, mull, or shirk 
 All useful Corporation work. 
 
 He proved it logically true, 
 
 That men who cherished still 
 A wholly wrong perverted ^iew 
 
 Upon the Pigeons Bill 
 Could never deal with what pertains 
 To Waterworks, Highways, and Drains.
 
 16 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 Tlioii, tnniinj,' to a sunnier view, 
 
 His audience discerned 
 What slioals of blessings must accrue 
 
 Wlien ]ic sliould be returned. 
 Then — then — indeed, would boons be poured 
 Upon the Sou-Sou-Nor-East Ward. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 As Jenkins slowly went along, 
 
 Upon his waj' to bed 
 (The ])urdeu of the speaker's song 
 
 Still rattling in his head), 
 He swore no lad should black his shoes 
 Who held decided Tory views. 
 
 That night John stretched his weary frame 
 
 Upon his couch to rest, 
 But gentle slumber never came 
 
 To nestle in his breast ; 
 Still — still— in never-ending train, 
 The speaker's words passed through his brain. 
 
 He tossed about through half the night, 
 
 His pulse at fever-heat, 
 Until at length in wild alfright 
 
 He started to his feet. 
 " A doctor's aid I now must seek," 
 Said he, " before I get too weak." 
 
 He staggei-ed o'er his chamber floor 
 
 ^Yith heat and fear nigh dead, 
 But when he reached the doctor's door 
 
 A taunting spectre said, 
 " This person you no aid can give, 
 He is a staunch Conservative." 
 
 The bitter truth John Jenkins saw. 
 
 No Liberal leech was nigh, 
 So, yielding to stern logic's law, 
 
 He staggered home to die ; 
 But, drawing near, his frenzied gaze 
 Perceived his house was in a blaze. 
 
 Vast crowds were standing idly near, 
 
 Like senseless blocks of clay, 
 When, see ! ten gallant souls appear 
 
 In firemen's array ! 
 They fix the hose with ready skill — 
 The flames may be got under still.
 
 LOCAL LTKICS. 17 
 
 But, lo ! a spectre, grim and grey, 
 
 Gripped Jenkins' trembling wrist, 
 " These persons must be sent away, 
 
 I'm Principle ! " it Lissed. 
 " Your home must lie in ruins hot. 
 These men are Tories, all the lot." 
 
 Stern Principle, thoiigli cold and grim. 
 
 Was Jenkins" guiding star. 
 But, somehow, this appeared to him 
 
 To go a bit too far ; 
 So, gazing on the flame and smoke, 
 He shook the spectre off — and woke ! 
 * * * * 
 
 Since that same night of dread and awe, 
 
 Be rivals Buff or Blue, 
 John Jenkins simply picks them for 
 
 The work they've got to do. 
 He thinks those questions out of place 
 That have no bearing on the case. 
 
 EUEEKA: A ERAGMENT. 
 
 Scene : Ohnnpus. Jupiter is discovered in a desponding attitude, 
 A Satellite is in attendance. 
 
 Sat. — Wherefore, dread lord, do black and gloomy clouds 
 Gather upon thy forehead ? Wherefore doth 
 Thy head sink wearily upon thy breast ; 
 While, ever and anon, a dolorous moan 
 'Scapes from thy parted lips ■' 
 
 Say, art thou sad ? 
 
 Jup.— Ay, sad, indeed, and with grp.ve reason too. 
 For wide Olympus is not what it was ; 
 Existence, now, for gods is flat and dull, 
 And lacks the charm of gay variety. 
 'Dost thou remember, in the bygone time, 
 What jinks we used to play ? How we forsook 
 These realms sublime, and doffed divinity. 
 That we, unknown, might seek the rolling world 
 To sport with mortals ? 
 
 Ay, and when 
 We met a giant wandering on the earth, 
 A mortal, who, by dint of Intellect, 
 Of Wisdom, Goodness, and of all high qualities. 
 Did rise from out the common ruck of men,
 
 18 LOCAL LYBICS. 
 
 As doth the cedai- rise, in l<in;,'ly pride, 
 
 Above the tangled bnuubles ; how we hailed 
 
 TTiin as a brother ; how wo cast aside 
 
 Uis frail humanity, and bade him come 
 
 To be a god, as we are ? 
 Sat. — I remember 
 
 The facts you mention, well. 
 J 11'. — Since those glad days 
 
 The race of mortals has all pigmy grown. 
 
 True, Intellect has cropped up hijre and there — 
 
 As in the ease of Shakspeare ; Goodness, too— 
 
 As in the instance of one Dr. Watts ; 
 
 Extreme Fidelity lias, too, occurred. 
 
 And Statesmanship, and lofty gifts of speech, 
 
 Have found exponents, now and then, on earth. 
 
 But never have we in these latter days 
 
 Beheld a mortal, who himself contained. 
 
 In his own i^erson, all these glorious parts 
 
 In absolute perfection. 
 Sat. — No, alas ! 
 
 Yet, ere, my lord, we yield to black despair, 
 
 I would suggest that I, thy faithful slave, 
 
 With thy authority, do visit earth, 
 
 To make one final search. 
 Jl'p. — I have no hope 
 
 That such a quest can aught save bootless prove ; 
 
 Still, if thy soul is bent on futile toils, 
 
 Thou hast my blessing. Hie, thee. 
 
 (Jlad ill invisihilitu, the Satellite descends to Earth. Municipal Elections 
 chance to he in progress. Soon ha re-appears in Objmpus, and 
 approaches Jupiter, hearing a large placard in his hand 
 
 Sat. — 0, good, my lord, I bear thee glorious news. 
 The race of giants is not yet extinct ; 
 A man exists whose god-like qualities. 
 And many-sided genius, lift him far 
 Above the common herd, as hills from vales. 
 I prithee list— (Reads)— " Electors, vote for Noggs— 
 The glorious Noggs — the Noggs whose wondrous gifts 
 Shine star-like in the annals of the world ! 
 Do ye seek intellect, go ask for Noggs ; 
 And see ye get him. Noggs' s mental scope 
 Has never yet been equalled. Goodness, too, 
 Is Noggs's special forte. Fidelity— 
 Once place your interests in Noggs's hands. 
 And he, forgetting home, and wife, and child. 
 Will never sleep again, lest, when he dozed.
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 19 
 
 Some want of yours mis^lit pass unlieeded Ijy. 
 
 Then vote for Nog'gs, and ere the year glides past 
 
 Your incomes shall be doubled ; your grey hairs 
 
 Grow black again ; and joy shall reign supreme." 
 
 Now, with a shudder, let us turn to Eloggs, 
 
 The rival candidate, — • 
 Jup. — Nay, read no more. 
 
 Where dwells this being ; stay, lend me the scroll. 
 
 Can this be true ? Or are these glowing words 
 
 But the fond tribute of some biassed friend ? 
 Sat. — At first, my lord, I feared such was the case : 
 
 Wlieu, lo, the glorious Noggs himself averred 
 
 This scroll contained but the bare, simple truth, 
 
 Without exaggeration. 
 Jup. — Ha, say you so ? Then this, indeed, is joy ; 
 
 For such a man must no more grope on earth. 
 
 " Eureka! "—We have found him. 
 
 Fetch him up: 
 
 And, hark ye, bring his rival here as well. 
 
 From what I gather from this written scroll. 
 
 We can construct from him a decent fiend. 
 
 THE ASSES, THE LION, AXD THE COCKATOO. 
 
 A FABLE AFTER LA FOXTAINE. 
 
 A many years ago, 
 
 When all Commercial Street and Woodhouse Lane 
 
 Formed one large grassy j)lain. 
 
 Some asses, who were wandering to and fro. 
 
 Chanced to discuss the questions of the day 
 
 (For asses, then as now, must have their say). 
 
 Said one, " My friends, I've noticed for some years, 
 
 Dosiiite our nolile forms and graceful ears, 
 
 Men, as a rule, refuse in any way 
 
 The slightest homage to our race to pay. 
 
 Nay, more ! Our name, I'm led to understand, 
 
 By man is made a bye-word in the land. 
 
 That we must take some step, 'tis very clear. 
 
 To guard the rights all asses hold most dear. 
 
 I woulil suggest we forthwith do elect 
 
 Our friend the Lion to protect our cause ; 
 
 He is an animal we all respect, 
 
 Most fit and proper, with good teeth and claws. 
 
 I now projjose, ' The Lion.' " Hero ho bowed. 
 
 The asses drew together in a crowd.
 
 20 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 Some shout, "Hurrah, the Lion ! See how strong 
 
 His musck\'3 are ! His cLiws, how very long ! 
 
 Ol)S(^rvo his tooth, all jaggod like a saw. 
 
 Ijook at his head ! By Jingo — what a jaw ! 
 
 Thoro cannot be the sh.'idow of a doubt 
 
 'J'liat Nature cut him out 
 
 To chew up men as cattle chew the cud. 
 
 Nature is very good, 
 
 And as a boon this animal has sent us, 
 
 Especially designed to represent us." 
 
 ^ ^ 4(f w w 
 
 But many of tlio asses turned aside. 
 
 " The Lion's well," said one, " but as for me, 
 
 1 do not like the colour of his hide. 
 
 That Cockatoo, perched upon yonder tree, 
 
 Is mueli more fair to see. 
 
 Observe, my friends, how his white wings unfold; 
 
 And see upon his head 
 
 That crest as yellow as tlie brightest gold — 
 
 Let's vote for him, instead." 
 
 So, without more ado, 
 
 The biggest asses chose the Cockatoo ; 
 
 The bird in question swearing to redress 
 
 Their grievous wrongs, and help them in distress. 
 
 .y. A£, j^ At 4t 
 
 ■^ TT T¥* T^ ^F 
 
 Soon after this, some peasants passing near 
 
 Observed the asses with their chosen chief, 
 
 Yet wthout sign of fear 
 
 They seized our long-eared friends, and on their backs 
 
 Piled heavy sacks. 
 
 And with strong ropes arrested their career. 
 
 The Cockatoo flew screaming to the wood. 
 
 Then one ass spoke, in tones of bitter grief — ■ 
 
 " Oil, brothers in misfortune, it is plain 
 
 That they who seek defenders of a cause 
 
 Will find mere colour treacherous and vain. 
 
 When what they really need are teeth and claws. 
 
 'Tis very plain, had we the lion here. 
 
 Our tyrants now woiald welter in their blood ; 
 
 And it is also plain, 
 
 Tn seasons of great strain, 
 
 A Cockatoo is precious little good." 
 
 I trust, my friends, you'll see 
 
 This tale applies to you ; 
 
 Don't choose your councillors because they're blue 
 
 Or even yellow, as the case may be ; 
 
 Bat choose them for the work they've got to do.
 
 LOCAL LTEICS. 21 
 
 THE EEiaN OF MORALITY. 
 
 Supposed to he written hy a dis^tingwislied advocate of Temperance some 
 years hence, and addressed to posterity. 
 
 'Tis a saddening reflection for a person who is great 
 
 In all qualities wbieli make a man sublime, 
 That shy modesty forbids him on the virtues to dilate 
 
 Which have rendered him the envy of his time. 
 
 Were it not for this restriction, I might venture to remark 
 
 That morality has always been with me 
 A kind of second nature — shunning doubtful ways and dark ; 
 
 But no, alas ! I fear it cannot be. 
 
 StiU, my children, I may tell you how a many years ago, 
 
 When surrounded by a small though moral clan, 
 A lofty scheme occurred to me, as some of you may know, 
 
 To beatify my sinful fellow-man. 
 
 I gazed upon the men of Leeds with bitterness and awe, 
 I saw them waste in drink their hard-earned pelf ; 
 
 And I murmured, " I will take the lot, and, aided by the law, 
 I will make them all as holy as myself." 
 
 I knew that all their wickedness arose from liquor's thrall ; 
 
 So, their alcohoHc enemy to bilk. 
 By an order of the Council I compelled them one and all 
 
 From that moment to exist on bread and milk. 
 
 1 hough I met with opposition, still within a week or so 
 
 I forced the movement's enemies to own 
 That the masses of the people, whom the drink-fiend trampled low, 
 
 Were becoming much more moral in their tone. 
 
 At first, I own, the bread and milk wrought no decided change. 
 
 In a fretful discontented kind of way 
 They assailed me with pietitions to extend their diet's range — 
 
 "Do not curse them ? Think how frail is human clay." 
 
 Hut as time passed on, we noticed the result became more clear, 
 
 Toil-stained navvies went to work in long black coats, 
 And the swart mechanics purchased with the cash once spent in beer 
 
 Snowy chokers to adorn their grimy throats. 
 C
 
 22' LOCAJ. lAUlCS. 
 
 Asi bread and milk morality assumed a wider sway, 
 
 Men abandoned all tlie grosser forms of vice ; 
 On all questions appertaining to their moral status, they 
 
 Grew day by day more critical and nice. 
 
 Not contented that their acHons should be merely free from stain, 
 All amusements were desisted from which might, 
 
 If carried to undue excess, bring evil in their ti'ain. 
 And involve a derolietiou from the "' right." 
 
 " For instance, Skittles,*' argued they, " may seem a harmless game, 
 
 When indulged in on a private parlour floor ; 
 But a man with human passions, and a weak and sinful fram«, 
 
 May be led by it to depths we all deplore. 
 
 " For the wild excitement flowing from the deft and skilful throw 
 Which hurls the senseless uine-iiin from its place. 
 
 May foster a desire (if you let the passion grow) 
 To get bowling at a sentient human race." 
 
 Thus clinging to their bread and milk, and freed from liquor's chains. 
 
 They grew good to such a wonderful degree. 
 That they positively equalled my dear friend. Sir E d B s, 
 
 And the best of them came almost up to me. 
 # # * # * « 
 
 And now, alas ! there follows the dim horror of my tale, 
 
 For though virtue is a bright and guiding stiir, 
 I have found that in its worship moderation should prevail, 
 
 And that holiness may go a bit too far. 
 
 For these same confounded masses grew so rigid in their view 
 
 That they held a solemn meeting to decide 
 If my carriages and horses, and my men in white and blue. 
 
 Were not forms of sinful vanity and pride. 
 
 And they i^assed a resolution, by unanimous assent. 
 
 Which appointed two ex-publicans to wait 
 At my residence upon me to induce me to repent, 
 
 And abandon them before it was too late. 
 
 Then a change came o'er my spirit iu the solemn, silent night, 
 
 I resolved to banish virtue's chilling bans, 
 So I stole into a dairy, where the milk lay calm and white. 
 
 And I poured a quart ofu-liislnj in the cans. 
 
 On the morrow, all the milkmen went on their accustomed round. 
 
 They distributed their sin-diluted store. 
 And within aljout a fortnight all my protdg^s were found 
 
 Just as wicked and as jolly as before.
 
 LOCAL LYEICS. 2B 
 
 It had slowly dawned upon me that so strict may be the code 
 
 Of morality which hinds the sinless elf, 
 That for shutting out the sunshine from hvimanity's hard road 
 
 You may back it against wickedness itself. 
 
 I shall hesitate in future ere I free the human race 
 
 From the evils which arise from liquor's curse, 
 Till I'm absolutely certain thei'e will spring not in its place 
 
 A morality which may be rather worse. 
 
 THE LEEDS CONSEEYATIVE ALDEEMAN 
 
 With apologies to Longfellow and " The Skeleton in Armour." 
 
 " Speak, speak, thou fearful guest, 
 Beating thy hollow breast. 
 Still in thy gay robes drest ; 
 
 Speak, grim old party. 
 Whence cotnes that look of care, 
 Why that dishevelled hair, 
 What for that vacant stare ? 
 Cheer up, my hearty." 
 
 Then from that ancient throat 
 Uprose a solemn note. 
 And wasted hands my coat 
 
 Grasped by the collar. 
 " Hear then, mortal dog, 
 Hear why I came incog. — 
 Say, pale-faced scallywog, 
 
 Art thou a scholar ? 
 
 " 'Tis not that I would seek 
 One versed in ancient Greek ; 
 Nay, though thy grammar's weak, 
 
 Shaky thy spelling — 
 Thou canst my woes assuage, 
 And to the present age, 
 My tale in glowing page 
 
 Aid me Ijy telling. 
 
 " Know that in days gone by, 
 These limbs which greet thine eye, 
 Shaking so horribly 
 As now you see 'em,
 
 24 LOCAL LTKTCS. 
 
 Bereft of human grace, 
 Finding no resting place, 
 Save in an old glass case 
 1 n a museum — 
 
 ' ' These limbs were once the pride 
 Of half a coimtry side, 
 All garments failed to hide 
 
 Their noble graces. 
 This waist so quaint and rum, 
 Here, where I place my thumb. 
 Once owned a swelling turn, 
 
 Eheu fugaces. 
 
 *' I was an Alderman, 
 Chief of the Tory clan. 
 And my glad race I ran, 
 
 Picked by good luck out. 
 Then came an evil day, 
 Dark iiends now gained the sway, 
 Harshly determined they 
 
 Tories to chuck out. 
 
 " Thus, then, these demons linked 
 Hands, as they grinned and winked, 
 Thus I became extinct — 
 
 Thus they effaced me ! 
 Yet, as the coming race 
 Might wish to view my face. 
 In a museum's case — 
 
 Fast screwed — they placed me. 
 
 *' I, in my case so drear. 
 Lie till the waning year 
 Warns me the time is near 
 
 For the election — 
 Then, deftly I unloose 
 My prison's guarding screws, 
 And by a wary ruse — 
 
 Shunning detection — 
 
 " Once more I seek the place 
 (Where, in the days of grace, 
 Mine was a well-loved face) — 
 
 Asking admission ! 
 Still, still, with knuckle sore. 
 Bang I the well-known door, 
 Then back 1 go once more. 
 Chilled by derision.
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 25 
 
 " This, mortal, be thy task, 
 As in Fame's smile you bask, 
 Ask — I imj)lore you ! — ask, 
 
 Why I am banished ? 
 Till I admittance win, 
 Kick up an awful din. 
 Force them to let me in, " 
 
 This said, — he vanished. 
 
 HUNTED DOAYN. 
 
 A Pkophetic Operetta. 
 Bij a puhlican whose licence has been rescinded. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Time — Some few years hence. 
 Scene — A magnificently appointed chamber. The u-alls are decorated 
 luith pewter pots, empty bottles, public-house signs, dried skins of publican <, 
 and similar trophies. Aid. T— T— M, Aid. W— H— e, Mr. W— ll— NS, Mr. 
 H — E D^V — N, Alderman S — B, and other disting^^ished advocates of 
 temperance are discovered in hunting costume, reclining as though exhausted 
 upon couches. As curtain rises they burnt into so7ig. 
 
 Opening 
 When wearied with the chase. 
 
 We lovers of humanity 
 Seek this our trysting place, 
 
 With unimpaired urbanity ; 
 And merrily we sing, 
 
 With pardonable vanity. 
 In every noble thing 
 
 We're richer than humanitv. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 For though poor fallen man 
 
 We gaze upon with tearfulness. 
 Our own careers we scan 
 
 With unabated cheerfulness. 
 We have escaped the ban 
 
 Which presses on mortality, 
 And so, of course, we can 
 
 Dispense with all formality. 
 As merrily we sing, &c. 
 
 Alderman T — t— M {coming forward) : Yes, my friends, humanity is 
 indeed a bad, bad egg, but the outlook is not altogether gloomy. Were thei-e 
 no deserts there would be no oases. Had night no darkness the stars would 
 be invisible. If human nature were not depraved where should we be ? 
 
 All : True, true ; we should then be nothing very particular. 
 
 Alderman T — T— M : But come, tell mo what has been tbe result of the 
 c-hase. Do you bring fresh trophies with which to decorate our walls ':' 
 
 First Temperance Advocate : In truth, my liege, the quarry grows 
 rarer day by day. Though from earliest dawn I and a trained pack of 
 detectives have beaten the surrounding coverts, we succeeded in starting one 
 .small publican alone from his lair.
 
 20 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 Alderman T— T — M {with interei^t) : Ali ! and you brought liim down. 
 
 FiusT T. A.: Alas! no. With the speed of a frightened hare lie 
 sought refuge in a mountain cavern. We endeavoured to dislodge him by 
 burning fiax at the entrance of his retreat, but in vain. 
 
 Aldcrrnan T — t — m : No matter. Let a small body of men proceed to 
 the cave and bar his escape by placing rocks before its mouth. I myself will 
 see to the endorsing of his licence. But now to the serious business of the 
 ■day. We love the pleasures of the chase, yet our favourite game is rapidly 
 becoming extinct. An attempt to preserve publicans would appear in- 
 consistent. We must, therefore, discover some new animal to hunt in the 
 interests of morality. What say you ? 
 
 Mr. W — LI. — S: Speaking for myself and friends, I would say that as 
 hunting in the interests of morality has become to us a second nature, any 
 new quarry will be regarded as a boon. 
 
 Alderman T — T — M : Well said. With a view to this I have invited 
 several enthusiasts, with pronounced personal prejudices and dislikes, to 
 address you. And see, here they come. 
 
 Enter the Dean of Slangor, accompanied hy prominent vegetarians, 
 
 anti-tobacconists, and others. 
 
 Choru.s. 
 
 Beat the dram with martial clangour 
 To announce the Dean of Slangor ; 
 Pray observe the signs of anger 
 
 On his fair and noble brow. 
 You can gather from his features 
 How he loves his fellow- creatures, 
 Of all lofty moral teachers 
 
 He's the chief, you must allow. 
 
 Yes, yes, yes, so that, &c. 
 
 Alderman T — t — m (aside to his hand): Hist! Silence, my friends. 
 Pray observe the Dean. See ! he gnashes his teeth and tears his silver locks. 
 Now he doubles himself up as though in violent pain. Ha! and now, 
 regardless of his clerical attire, he i-olls on the floor and foams at the mouth. 
 Poor fellow ! his agony is caused by long contemplation of the evils which 
 tea has brought upon the human race. 
 
 Song. 
 
 Dkan : Why I writhe in grim despair 
 
 You're aware. 
 Tea's unholy steams and vapours 
 (As you've read in all the papers) 
 Make me cut these painful capers ; 
 So I pray you all to swear
 
 LOCAL LYKICS. "27 
 
 To abjure and repel it, 
 
 To denounce, and curse, and quell it, 
 
 And to track the fiends who sell it 
 
 To their lair. 
 
 Will you swear 
 To track the fiends who sell it 
 
 To their lair ? 
 
 All {confideniittlhj to one anofJier) : 
 
 Although tea is most delightful, 
 Still we ouly think it rightful 
 To regard the same as frightful, 
 
 And to solemnly declare — 
 To abjure and repel it, 
 To denounce, and curse, and cxuell it, 
 And to track the fiends who sell it 
 
 To their lair. 
 
 To their lair, 
 To track the fiends who sell it 
 
 To their lair. 
 
 Alderman T — t — M : Perfectly right. Let us be consistent above all 
 things. We are all passionately fond of tea, but still, since the Dean appears 
 to object to it, we must give it up, and swear to hunt down, in the interests 
 of morality, all tea-dealers, as we would rats or publicans. It's rather 
 iiwkward, but I'm afraid it must be done. 
 
 First Temperance Advocate : Yes. It is one of our greatest 
 principles that men should abandon things they like because other people 
 don't like them. So the Dean has a logical hold upon us. But see, 
 another enthusiast advances. 
 
 Second Enthusiast : JTools and dolts. Empty chatterers, who prattle 
 and prate of their love of humanity, and who stretch forth no hand to 
 remove the cancer which is eating away its very vitals ! Listen to me. 
 But, stay. Perhaps I can control my feelings better iu verse. 
 
 Song. 
 
 I am a vegetarian. The garbage known as meat 
 
 Is utterly unsuited for a Christian man to eat ; 
 
 It sliocks potato-nurtured minds to mark the savage feasts 
 
 Where men with souls and intellects devour fiesh of beasts. 
 
 Is man a woU', a grey jackal, a lion, or a bear ? 
 
 Has he got tusks, or canine teeth, or claws, or woolly hair ? 
 
 Or does he stand erect and free, a proud and God-like thing ? 
 
 He does. I'm therefore logical when I proceed to sing- 
 Man should confine his ravages 
 To radishes and cabbages,
 
 28 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 And not deprado liis angel form by eating cqws and l)igs. 
 
 For tliouc;h the reckless glutton stops 
 
 His ajjpetite with nnitton chops ; 
 Tlic truly great are they who dine on oatmeal, beans, and figs. 
 
 Alderman T— t -m (aside) : I'm afraid the gentleman is right. Mutton 
 chops are very dear to us, but they n\ust go. Butchers also must bo 
 exterminated like rats and— and tea dealers. Oh ! inexorable logic ; tliis 
 is indeed hai-d. But see, more enthusiasts approach. 
 
 (Tlien follows a host of other Jadmongers — antl-tdhdcconisfs, antl-snuff- 
 takers, anti-ayiything and everijthlng ; protestors against wall-papers^ 
 objectors to ioindow curtains, gas, carpets, ^'c. Alderman T — T — M a7id his 
 friends are seen swearing to abandon all the comforts of life, one hy one, 
 and to hxmt doirn their providers, as the curtain desceiids.) 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Some months have elapsed. Time — Midniylit. 
 
 Scene — A rocky and desolate mountain pass. Atiful preci2nce at end 
 (to he used later on) . Enter weary and tattered man, looking furtively from 
 right to left as though fearing pursuit. 
 
 Weary One : Shelter at last ! For a time my relentless pursuers are 
 baffled. Ah ! my escape was narrow. Even now I can feel the hot breath 
 of the bloodhounds upon my cheek. Oh, to be safe, though only for a time ! 
 And how peaceful the scene ! It reminds me of the happy days when in my 
 little shop in Kirkgate I sold beef and mutton in the open face of day. The 
 happy time before we were forced to smuggle meat through the streets as 
 though it were dynamite. But, hark ! I hear voices as of men singing 
 mournfully. They draw near. I will conceal myself. 
 
 [^Conceals himself. 
 
 Muffled Chorus. 
 
 When the bird is in its nest, 
 
 Wretches that we are, 
 And the sun sinks in the west, 
 
 Wretches that we are ; 
 Wlien the hollow wind is sighing, 
 And the gloomy bat is flying. 
 We console ourselves by crying, 
 
 Wretches that we are. 
 
 Weary One [aside) : Who can they be ? Their voices contain a strange 
 ring of sorrow, and see, they weep and wring their hands. {Aloud) Softly, 
 My friends.
 
 LOCAL LTEICS. 2f> 
 
 First Singer (fremhUng) ; Friends. Wlio calls us friends ? 
 
 Weary One : I. For am I not also wretched ? 
 
 First Singer : Truly, you appear so. But stay. You are not a spy 
 Oil, horror ! You are not the awful Alderman himself ? 
 
 Weary One : No. See my beard, although streaked with premature 
 »rey, is not white enough. I am a once-prosperous butcher, who rashly 
 endeavoured to conduct his trade secretly after it had been declared illegal 
 by Alderman T — t — m and Mr. W — 11— s, To-day their trained hounds 
 tracked me home. With difficulty I escaped them, and I am here. And 
 you ? 
 
 First Singer : We are publicans, tea dealers, tobacconists, and other 
 outlaws who survived the general massacre and sought refuge here. But 
 hark ! horror ! The sound of feet. The clash of arms. Oh ! the enemy is 
 upon us. To the caves ! To the caves ! [All hide hastibj. 
 
 Enter Alderman T — T — M, Mr. H — R D— v— n, Alderman W — n— e. 
 Alderman S — R, Mr. W— LL — s, and other friends of h^mianity. TJiey are 
 armed, hut advance dejectedly. 
 
 Alderman T — t— m {turning and gazing half regretfullij had) : 
 
 Eecit. 
 
 Farewell, world, I feel I love you now 
 That I'm about to leave you. Time gone liy 
 You were to me a disagreeable friend, 
 A low acquaintance whom I couldn't cut. 
 But whom I snubbed full many a time and oft, 
 Seeing your vices through a double glass. 
 But blind to all your glorious qualities, 
 Fai'eweU, O world, farewell, a long farewell. 
 
 Mr. W — LL — S: Yes; perhaps, after all, the world as originally con- 
 stituted, had some redeeming features. But they have vanished now. What 
 have we to Uve for r* 
 
 All : Alas ! nothing — nothing whatever. 
 
 Alderman T — T — M : Too true. We have, unfortunately, in our laudable 
 desire to be consistent, annihilated all the comforts of life. We have dis- 
 covered wheu too late to recall the providers of beefsteaks, bitters, cigars, 
 tea, and the like from their premature tombs that the whole zest of 
 existence is gone. Let us therefore perish together. 
 
 All: We will; we will. {All leap despairing hj over tlte precipice 
 "lid, disappear.) 
 
 Hunted Ones {n-hn have heard all, peeping cautioushj out) : This is, 
 indeed, a joyful circumstance. Our enemies, instead of destroying us, have 
 I'lected to destroy themselves. Let us now descend to the plains and resume 
 our respective occupations.
 
 :K) local lyrics. 
 
 CllOKUS. 
 
 And merrily we'll siiii,' 
 
 With piirdmiahlc vanity, 
 Old Comtiioii-seiise is king, 
 
 He rules with true urbanity. 
 Joy beams on every face, 
 
 For freed from fad's inanity, 
 Our lightsome steps we trace 
 To home and glad humanity. 
 So merrily, &c. 
 
 [Exeunt omnes, singimi. 
 Curtain. 
 
 THE QUESTION OF OYER-PEESSUEE AGAIN. 
 
 Our system of education, some say, has become a curse, 
 And the School Boards have been assailed in terms of such fierce abuse, 
 Tbat the Bard has decided at last to relate a little anecdote, illustrative of 
 the difficulties with which they have to contend, and if his lines have a 
 tendency to extend beyond the limits of decent verse, 
 Jlis own personal excitement, and the vast importance of the subject with 
 which he deals, must jilead his excuse. 
 
 There were once two babies named Johnson, the elder v/as christened Sam, 
 
 John was the younger's title, his intimates called him Jack. 
 
 They were both apprehended by the School Board Officer for being 
 
 feloniously at large in their mother's cottage, and were carried away 
 
 to cram. 
 The elder one, Samuel, however, escaijed to the wilderness, where he 
 
 subsisted upon roots and herbs, and successfully defied the efforts of 
 
 Mr. Butler and all his myrmidons to fetch him back. 
 
 The more fortunate John, however, was bent to the School Board's will, 
 
 And he entered without delay on his State-compelled career. 
 
 During the period which extends between weaning and vaccination, he 
 became thoroughly grounded in the higher mathematics, use of globes, 
 Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Sanscrit, two or three modern languages, law, 
 physic, philosophy, political economy (including of course the works of 
 Mr. Henry George and of John Stuart Mill) ; 
 
 Together with a general knowledge of the duties which appertain to the 
 naval and military officer, the land surveyor, and the civil engineer.
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 31 
 
 Time passed away, and the Board observed with a gTowing pride 
 
 That Jolm's intellectual scope grew wider day by day ; 
 
 They took a great interest in his ease, and kept him carefnlly fastened up 
 in a specially constructed cage, feeding him at regular intervals upon 
 patent highly spiced food; and when at the age of five years, just 
 when he had qualified to become a Professor of the Yorkshire College, 
 unfortunately he died. 
 
 The Board felt seriously annoyed, because they feared that it might be a 
 long time before so brilliant an example of the advantages of their 
 system came again in their way. 
 
 Then they caught younger babies still, and fed them with greater care. 
 
 They kept them in coops like fowls, to develop their mental force. 
 
 And the infants advanced apace in knowledge, and the Board was in time 
 delighted by observing tbat it had succeeded in the difficult task of 
 producing the earliest sages on record, and that in the matter of 
 rheumatism, gout, wrinkles, failing sight, and even of thin grey hair. 
 
 Not to speak of education, their pupils were considerably in advance of 
 many old gentlemen of eighty, which proved at once the utility of their 
 scholastic course. 
 
 The schools were a great success, but alas, as the years went by, 
 
 A certain draw-back appeared to these plans so wise and great. 
 
 It was discovered, in short, that as soon as the children reached the age of 
 five years, or thereabouts, their faculties began to fail them, and they 
 stretched out their little decrepit limbs, in the corners of the coops, and 
 lay down to die. 
 
 And then, of course, a lot of meddlesome people, like Dr. AUbutt and Mr. 
 Teale, who were always interfering with the advancement of the young, 
 began to raise a cry about saving the little ones fi-om what thej called 
 their premature fate. 
 
 So the Board was obliged at length (it did it with grief and pain) 
 
 To abandon its lofty scheme for improving our British youth ; 
 
 It was driven to send for Sam (you remember Sam, he was the elder brother 
 of John), and to engage him at an enormous salary to lure the surviving 
 scholars, by dint of marbles, tops, battledore and shuttlecock, &c., back 
 to ignorant and light-hearted childhood again. 
 
 And between you and me (don't let it go any further you know ; because I have 
 always been a great friend of School Boards, and I shouldn't like them 
 to think I was turning against them now), but between you and me, 1 
 don't Ijelieve that the population of Great Britain will l)e any worse for 
 being children when they are young, and that's the bare truth.
 
 ,S2 LOCAL LTKICS. 
 
 THE YIETUOUS EDITOR. 
 
 Unrivallod meiitiil power, I don't liesitate to state 
 
 (And the t'lict will bo admitted by the wise), 
 Has a toiidency, at any rate, to make a porsou great, 
 
 And wliich, I think, 'tis folly to despise ; 
 And when, as an addition, to tlie liigbesL type of mind, 
 
 One monopolises purity of soul, 
 I hold the individual in whom they are combined 
 
 Has reason to be thankful on the whole. 
 
 For instance, when an editor, before whose scathing pen 
 
 Kings tremble, and Prime Ministers fall down ; 
 VVTien even great town councillors, the haughtiest of men, 
 
 Shrink, shuddering, beneath his awful frown— 
 I say, when such aa editor relinquishes the reins 
 
 For a season, and beguiles his leisure time 
 In daisy-haunted meadows, making dandelion chains, 
 
 The spectacle is touching and sublime. 
 
 The adjective I've chosen to define the moral height, 
 
 Of the gentleman, whose face you often see 
 On select teetotal platforms, is inadequate and slight, 
 
 He was good in such a wonderful degree. 
 Many mortals have existed, it is pleasant to reflect, 
 
 Whose abilities were far from being dim, 
 Mr. Shakspeare's mental power is entitled to respect, 
 
 But they, my friends, were fools compared with him. 
 
 He was not a stern ascetic ; though the follies of mankind 
 
 (Such as murder or upsetting passing trains) 
 Caused a feeling of annoyance to disturb his placid mind. 
 
 True charity would soon resume the reins. 
 When a giddy, thoughtless nurse-maid, in the course of idle play,. 
 
 Choked a wretched little baby with a string. 
 He, though driven to condemn the act, would do it in a way 
 
 Which deprived the cruel censure of its sting. 
 
 Now, although these Indiscretions, as I think I said before, 
 
 He regarded in a charitable light, 
 In the silence of his chamber he would bitterly deplore 
 
 One popular divergence from the " right."
 
 LOCAL LTBICS. 33 
 
 *' Shun the play-house, Johnny dearest," said his good old maiden aunt, 
 
 After thoughtfully inviting him to tea, 
 " Better enter the ' Inferno,' like the enterprising Dante " 
 
 (Though she might have put an accent on the e). 
 
 So, when advertising managers approached him with a prayer 
 
 For a notice, and spread treasure at his feet. 
 He would gaze on them with horror and would seize them by the hair. 
 
 And hurl them through the window to the street. 
 " Oh the play-house," he would murmur "is most heartrending, I ween, 
 
 When examined from a ' speculative height,' 
 And from off this coign of vantage (for, of course, I've never been), 
 
 I shudder almost daily at the sight." 
 
 Now, it happened when the writer, who knows lords and dukes in scores, 
 
 Was strolling on New Briggate, haud-in-hand 
 With the gentleman in question, he observed the open doors 
 
 Of the building which is truly called the " Grand." 
 In this Hall o£ Education, I (the wily writer) say, 
 
 Mr. Corson made a most undoubted hit. 
 And, referring to its beauties in an off-hand sort of way, 
 
 1 beguiled him to " a hob's xvorth in the pit." 
 
 *' It is pleasing," murmured Johnny, when we gained the silent streets, 
 
 " To discover men whose philanthropic views 
 Induce them to provide these most improving little treats 
 
 Which instruct the population, yet amuse ; 
 If the powerful and wealthy, casting off all selfish greed. 
 
 Would come forward in an open-handed way 
 To support such institutions, they would no doubt supersede 
 
 The tap-room, and in course of time, the play." 
 
 In a print whose circulation is unutterably wide, 
 
 Whose opinions are rigid and extreme, 
 A modest little notice may be oftentimes descried 
 
 In the place where lectures erstwhile reigned supreme. 
 And perhaps the shrewd observer, with a knowledge-seeking brain. 
 
 Who the reason of this circumstance would trace, 
 May find the little incidents I've mentioned, in the main, 
 
 Have a certain kind of bearing on the case.
 
 31. LOCAL l.VRrCS. 
 
 THE PALL OF ILUMILITY. 
 
 Though dreams of glory and success 
 Attend all mortals, more or loss, 
 Cluirles Stickle from the same was free 
 la an unusual degree. 
 
 " I seek not," he would often say, 
 '• The monarch's crown, the sceptred sway ; 
 Contented witli my present lot, 
 i like these things yet seek thoni not. 
 
 " I only ask — when casting down 
 My wealth before my native town — 
 When placing at its beck and call 
 My time, my talents, yea, my all— 
 
 " That it should now and then beguile 
 My patient labours with a smile. 
 And that my relatives should be 
 All smiled upon in some degree. 
 
 " For surely from a life well spent 
 There should reflect, to some extent, 
 On every cousin, aunt, and niece 
 Some ray of honour and of peace. 
 
 " How can I aid my township more 
 Than as a Guardian of its poor ? 
 Yes (though a fate to be deplored) 
 I'll be the Chairman of the Board." 
 
 Urged on by motives of the most 
 High-minded kind, he took the post. 
 Devoting thus a term of years 
 To dry deserving cases' tears. 
 
 Ah! Stickle, hadst thou paused awhile. 
 Ere thus thou sought' st that hoped-for smile 
 Thou ne'er hadst— ah, well !— none the less— 
 And yet so soon. But I digress. 
 
 At length election time drew nigh, 
 And Stickle raised his toil-worn eye 
 And scanned the voters' ranks and files 
 To catch their universal smiles.
 
 lOCAL LTEICS. 
 
 And as be gazed lie saw his Bame 
 Emlilazoned on a bill of flame 
 (I here denote the placard's hue), 
 Which shrieked out "Voters, is it true 
 
 " That Stickle comes with might and main 
 To try to hocus you agnin ; 
 That he, with Rapine-reeking claw 
 Still strives to hook your votes ? Oh Lor ! 
 
 " And is it right that one should seek, 
 By plundering the poor and weak. 
 To purchase Parks and mansions rare — 
 We ask you, voters, is it fair ? 
 
 " And IS it right, that one who could, 
 Despatch an uncle in cold blood, 
 Should coolly come and ask once moi-e 
 The post of Guardian of the poor ? 
 
 " We hear, voters, that his friends 
 Have ALL met just but shocking ends. 
 Convicted all, at divers times, 
 Of most depraved and fearful crimes." 
 
 When these stern questions met his gaze 
 Charles Stickle stood in mute amaze ; 
 And then he murmured, " Can it be 
 That these remarks apply to me ? 
 
 " An uncle ? Pooh ! when did I kill ? 
 I never had one ; yah. Yet still, 
 A man who'd issue bills thus large 
 Must have some reason for this charge. 
 
 " Let me review my life from youth. 
 And try to test this placard's truth ; 
 I may, by close observance, find 
 These crimes, which now escape my mind." 
 
 Then, as before his mental eye, 
 In long review, rose years gone by. 
 He found, with grief, his earliest days 
 Appeared involved in mist and haze. 
 
 What ! Should he pit his single brain 
 Against a charge so very plain, 
 Set forth in such big letters, too ? 
 Ah, no : he felt it must be true.
 
 am LOCAL LTKTCS. 
 
 When thus cut off, as with a Iciiife, 
 From all his long and well-spent, lifo, 
 Poor Stickle sous^ht a living tomb 
 Within a monastery's gloom. 
 
 THE EIYAL'S YENaEANCE. 
 
 Dedicated to the Leeds Highivay Committee. 
 
 O Love, to-day I sing 
 Of thee, thou fairy guost. 
 And how thy treml)ling wing 
 Once sought a maiden's breast : 
 Her name, Matilda Ann, 
 And thy soft rosy links 
 Fast bound her to a man 
 (One James Ehjah Biuks). 
 
 The path seemed bright and fair, 
 And free from sorrow's shade, 
 Whereon this guileless pair 
 In Love's sweet morning strayed. 
 But while Jaines wooed his bride, 
 Did no keen eye — alack !— 
 Observe a serpent glide 
 Across the lovers^ track? 
 
 Lute Hugley was a man 
 Who felt love's scorching flames 
 Burn for Matilda Ann 
 Co-equally with James. 
 He oft had sworn in pride 
 The girl should be his own, 
 And tender arts had tried 
 To make his passion known. 
 
 With supplicating tears 
 He asked her twice a day 
 For twenty-seven years 
 To chase his grief away. 
 In tramcars, in the street, 
 In church or busy mart. 
 He fell down at her feet 
 And offered her his heart.
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 37 
 
 Fi'om these slight, doubtful signs 
 Perchance the maid had guessed 
 The lover-like designs 
 Luke harboured in his breast. 
 But when his schemes wore planned 
 To snare the wished-for prey 
 James won the maiden's hand 
 And Hugley crept away. 
 
 'Eevenge! — by day and night, 
 
 A red and lurid stain, 
 
 This word shone tierce and bright 
 
 In Hugley's seething brain. 
 
 When that day's bill of fare 
 
 A waiter brought him — not 
 
 Observmg his despair — 
 • Eevenge ! " he muttered, " hot ! " 
 
 To quench two youthful lives 
 
 Was Hugley's constant thought ; 
 
 And pistols, swords, and knives 
 
 In quantities he bought. 
 
 But how to do the deed ! 
 
 The task seemed grim and hard ; 
 
 So in his pressing need 
 
 He sought the present bard. 
 
 The gentle bard recliued 
 In his ancestral hall 
 (He'd fortunately dined 
 When Hugley chanced to call). 
 He took the proffered gold, 
 As Luke with bated breath 
 Proceeded to unfold 
 His errand fraught with death. 
 
 ' To offer on this head 
 
 Professional advice 
 
 Is hard," the poet said, 
 ' The point is somewhat nice. 
 
 To slay these lovers young, 
 
 Without the slightest fear 
 
 Of being tried and hung, 
 
 But stop, I have it, here." 
 
 ^f ^p "jP -H- 
 
 Months passed away, and Luke 
 (No more tlio prey of cares) 
 An active part now took 
 In all the town affairs.
 
 38 LOCAL LYKTCS. 
 
 By swearing to remit 
 All taxes, when returned, 
 lie soon the right to sit 
 As councillor had earned. 
 
 As Chairman of tlio great. 
 Committee of Highways, 
 This Kupert of debate 
 (With skill deserving praise) 
 Hold all the streets in charge, 
 And, 'ncath his sway serene, 
 The thoroughfares at large 
 Were ever fair and clean. 
 
 Yet stay, one blighted street 
 Knew not the scraper's face ; 
 All men who walked on feet 
 Fought shy of Alfred Place. 
 The mud rose mountains high 
 Before each cursed abode. 
 And navvies hovered nigh 
 To rend and tear the road. 
 
 Oft, oft the tenants' prayed 
 (In grim and black despair) 
 The Corporation's aid 
 To pave that thoroughfare. 
 But miuions only came. 
 Urged by their native wit, 
 Sume new design to frame, 
 In mountain or in pit. 
 
 Beneath this chilling ban 
 The street became at last 
 Impassable to man. 
 Its dwellers perished fast. 
 Hemmed in on every side, 
 ICo food could reach their doors ; 
 So wretchedly they died 
 (Those ratepayers) in scores. 
 
 In one ill-fated room 
 A husband and his bride 
 (They shared the common doom) 
 Were l\ing side by side. 
 There in the twilight grey, 
 Defunct as old Stonchenge, 
 The monuments they lay. 
 Of Hugley's dread revenge.
 
 LOCAL LTBICS. 
 
 THE rOECE OE AEGUMENT. 
 
 Though I honour a person who braves Fortune's frown, 
 And sneering at wealth and mere human renown, 
 
 Eefuses to take, 
 
 For his conscience's sake, 
 Advantage of any whom vice has cast down. 
 
 Still, I love him no less if, when cherishing strong, 
 Convictions on any point all his life long. 
 
 I should suddenly find 
 
 He has altered his mind 
 And regards those convictions as totally wrong. 
 
 For the thoughtful observer, who studies mankind, 
 In the course of such studies must frequently find 
 
 Views constantly reel. 
 
 Before Logic's appeal. 
 Though their owner for years to the truth has been blind. 
 
 To show how a person may sometimes relax 
 A stern opposition to Logic's attacks. 
 
 It may be of use 
 
 If I now introduce 
 The case of a friend of mine— Mr. Beeswax. 
 
 Beeswax had an intellect strikingly clear, 
 Except on one subject — the subject of beer ; 
 
 In Beeswax's eyes, 
 
 Beer assumed the disguise 
 Of a horrible poison — an object of fear. 
 
 In vain I expostulate — " Beeswax," I say, 
 " Observe I've had many large glasses to-day, 
 
 And still I'm alive, 
 
 You observe I survive 
 All this deadly poison which falls in my way. 
 
 '■ Now, think of it. Beeswax; consider the case; 
 Let us look at your argument straight in the face ; 
 
 If beer poisoned, you see. 
 
 There would speedily be 
 A marked falling off in the groat human race. 
 
 " Remember, O Beeswax, a man may partake 
 Of a little strong drink for his stomach its sake. 
 
 Without more oifence 
 
 (In a Scriptural sense) 
 Than if he should his thirst in sad Zoedone slake." 
 
 39
 
 4«Q LOC.VI, LYRICS. 
 
 But, no, this stei'n zealot would savagely swear 
 That beer was a poison, a curse, and ;i, snare, 
 
 And enforce the sweet, laws 
 
 Of the Temperance cause, 
 By (Inigginpr nic forcibly out by the hair. 
 
 Hut, as I have stated, we frequently find 
 Argumentative seed may bo sown in a mind 
 
 To lie dormant, perhaps. 
 
 And long years may elapse 
 Ere it blossoms in acts of a. dciinite kind. 
 
 Thus Beeswax denounced the strong drink as of yore, 
 Until Death's gloomy hand raised the latch of his door, 
 
 Kot for him, by the bye — 
 
 No, Beeswax didn't die — 
 But a certain dear avint of his, a'tat four score. 
 
 It may have been trouble — the parting's sad pain — 
 Which led him to think of my statements again ; 
 
 She had loved Beeswax so 
 
 (She had left him, you know, 
 The old Pig and Whistle, in Hunslet Lane). 
 
 And thus Logic conquered, and therefore to-day 
 Mr. Beeswax's fancies have all passed away, 
 
 Now, a glittering star, 
 
 He presides at his bar. 
 And, saving detectives, existence is gay. 
 
 LINE8 TO A MUCH-ESTEEMED LEED8 VICAR 
 
 UPON HIS ACCESSION TO A COLONIAL BISHOPRIC. 
 
 So, reverend brother, you are going to leave us, 
 
 And all our hearts are wrung, 
 To break the threads which now so firmly weave us 
 
 With one so good and young. 
 
 You came to us from the " still-vexed Bermiidas " * 
 
 (Still vexed because you went), 
 And you denounced the drug which would have screwed us 
 
 From many a gospel tent. 
 
 * Thou call'dst me uji nt miduiglit to fetch dew 
 From the still-vexed Bermoothes. — Tempest, Act I. Scene 2.
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 41 
 
 But uow you'll pass througli pomp's liigli ceiemouial, 
 
 And soon you'll glide away, 
 Yet, ere you grasp your Bishopric Colonial, 
 
 I have one word to say. 
 
 Will you forgive me, as I sit here musing, 
 
 Watcbiug the fire pale, 
 If I should pen, alone for your perusing, 
 
 A true and simple tale ? 
 
 A bishop once esteemed in his profession, 
 
 And also young like you, 
 Went to a distant chvirch to take possession— 
 
 The Church of Rum-ti-Foo. 
 
 In his high callius;' most enthusiastic 
 
 (Though stiffish in his joints). 
 This bishop's views were rather too elastic 
 
 On some important points. 
 
 He held a man should gain the true affections 
 
 Of these he sought to raise, 
 And so forgetting his high-born connections, 
 
 He learnt the heathens' ways. 
 
 So when his flock displayed a ruling passion 
 
 For scalps served up in rum, 
 The bishop affably joined in the fashion 
 
 So much condemned by some. 
 
 One day he noted that some black carousers 
 
 His garments keenly eyed, 
 So he resolved to banish coats and trousers 
 
 Lest they should smack of pride. 
 
 For fear his church should grieve for the barbarity 
 
 Which to their race belongs, 
 He condescended, in the broadest charity, 
 
 To sing them comic songs. 
 
 Nay, though obese, and eke a bit rheumatic, 
 
 He on his head would stand 
 And entertain them with feats acrobatic, 
 
 Like Griffiths at the " Grand." 
 
 Such gentle conduct round each heart entwining, 
 
 His teachings sped ;ipaco. 
 Till in his See no nigger tlumght of dining 
 
 Unless our friend said grace.
 
 42 LOCAL LYRTCS. 
 
 From dainty morsels ore that flock would take bitea, 
 They soufjht their bishop's smile; 
 
 His wink was coveted for healing snake bites, 
 His frown for checking bile. 
 
 So sure tlioy grow that he fould smooth life's creases 
 And keep them safe from harm, 
 
 TIicij chopped that prelate into little piecex 
 And icore him for a rlinrm. 
 #♦#««« 
 
 So, my friend, when in your distant station 
 
 You rule at length your See, 
 Pray train your flock to love in moderation, 
 
 And with humility. 
 
 THE OLD CLOCK IN THE TOWER. 
 
 (With (icknoidedgments of a suitahhj grovelling character to Longfelloir.) 
 
 In the quaint old town of Loidis stands a structure old and brown. 
 Often tinkered and repainted, still it watches o'er the town : 
 
 And a clock, all newly gilded, in a meek desponding way, 
 Gazes ever from its tower on a fountain's shining spray. 
 
 Quaint old clock, though newly gilded, through w'hat ages vast and long 
 Hast thou watched the changing city, with its trafSc and its throng. 
 
 Quaint old clock, as I stand musing on the eyes which once have seen you , 
 Memories throng as thickly round you as the men who come to clean you . 
 
 Standing here I watch your features, and straightway before my gaze, 
 Tn a long procession moving, are the ghosts of other days. 
 
 Once again a sea of faces throng the sc^uare from side to side. 
 And policemen wrestle vainly with the heaving humnn tide. 
 
 (-) ! I greet ye, freeborn voters, through the mists of many years. 
 With your voice, " Here speyk up, will ye," with your hootings and your 
 cheers. 
 
 Once again comes John de Morgan, with his army of recruits. 
 To denounce the Corporation till it trembles in its boots : 
 
 And again in martial order I can see each phalanx stand, 
 
 Urged to deeds of blood and slaughter by the lugledew Brass Band. 
 
 Well, I greet you too, de Morgan, you are far across the sea, 
 In a land (perhaps) more glorious, and (possibly) more free.
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. ii^ 
 
 See, OHCO more the scene is changing ; frantic clamours fill the air, 
 As a noble fountain rises in the centre of the square ; 
 
 And, unaweil by execration, see the first bi-iglit shower gleams. 
 Which malces such a marked improvement in the sun's uncertain beams. 
 
 Then play on, O gentle fountain ! by harsh ci-itics undismay'd, 
 For the sun in this dull climate needs some artificial aid. 
 
 They are gone, my gentle visions of the days which have passed by. 
 But they leave sweet dreams behind them which can never fade or die. 
 
 Dreams which love to hover round us, heeding not time's flying feet. 
 Dreams, half gentle, half regretful, semi-sorrowful and sweet. 
 
 Fancies, O my friends, so tender, they would cloud your eyes and wet 'em, 
 Could I mould them into rhythm, but I'm sorry I forget 'em. 
 
 STRICT ECONOMY. 
 
 A very long time ago 
 
 (And memory oft will bring 
 Some theme when the poet's ideas run low) 
 
 Occurred the event I slug. 
 
 Of course, in this year of grace, 
 
 In a land, too, so very free. 
 The occurrence could never have taken place, 
 
 The which is a cause for glee. 
 
 In a sad, unenlightened day, 
 
 However, the wight did dwell, 
 To whom (in a very respectful way) 
 
 We'll henceforth refer as L. 
 
 Now, sent by kind Fortune's hand, 
 
 A scholarly person came. 
 About the same time, to instruct the land, 
 
 And Bill was that person's name. 
 
 In lofty and classic lore 
 
 Bill found all tlio people weak ; 
 'Tis said men existed who set no store 
 
 On the tongue of the ancient Greek.
 
 44 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 So lacked tliey true learnius's ray, 
 
 So dark was the spreading curse ; 
 Few infants, 'tis whispered, were taugbl to say 
 
 The great Mr. Browning's verse. 
 
 ('J'hough Bill was a person wliom 
 
 I cr(?dit with no slight tact, 
 I trust he enlarged on their inner gloom 
 
 A little beyond the fact.) 
 
 However men saw how black 
 And weak were their mental frames, 
 
 And some patted Billy upon the back 
 (Though others would call him nanuis). 
 
 Then Bill, in seductive tone, 
 
 Informed them that early youth 
 Is really the season for making known 
 
 Poetic or classic truth. 
 
 ' Your infants, though young," said he, 
 " May dig in the classic mines, 
 Then possibly may in the future see 
 The meaning of Browning's lines." 
 
 Then danced they with joy around, 
 And, selling their flocks and herds. 
 
 Built glittering structures to hold tlie sound 
 Of Billy's instructive words. 
 
 The walls were of polished gold 
 
 (A metal in much request) ; 
 The gems which adorned them, T have been told, 
 
 Were also the very best. 
 
 Engaged at a vast expense, 
 
 R.A.'s were employed in scores, 
 To paint, in a true and artistic sense, 
 
 The panels of all the doors. 
 
 And he of whom (with respect) 
 
 I ventured to speak as L, 
 Was pensioned for life to observe, direct. 
 
 And see that they did them well. 
 
 These little arrangements made, 
 
 Instruction advanced apace ; 
 And infants of every social grade 
 
 Seemed satisfied with their place. 
 * # * * »
 
 LOCAL LTEICS. 45 
 
 Things went ou all right, until 
 
 It came into some one's bead 
 That (high education apart) they still 
 
 Required a little bread. 
 
 Then people were much annoyed 
 
 (Who hadn't a bite or sup) 
 To find that their incomes were all employed 
 
 In keeping those structures up. 
 
 By spurs of starvation pricked, 
 One rose and he said, said he, 
 " The time has an-ived for observing strict 
 And rigid economee. 
 
 " These palaces bright and fair. 
 And charming in artists' eyes, 
 We now must conduct with the nicest cai-e, 
 And strive to economise. 
 
 " Perchance, if the polished gold, 
 Which gleams on each fairy pile. 
 Were scraped just a little, we still might hold 
 The wolf from the door awhile. 
 
 On hearing advice so fell 
 
 With sorrow each eye was dim, 
 Till somebody shouted, " I say, there's L, 
 
 Let's take it all out of him.'' 
 
 This counsel, I need not say. 
 
 With wildest delight was heard. 
 To economise L in the strictest way, 
 
 Each solemnly pledged his word. 
 
 Retrenchment appeared so true, 
 
 A duty which none should shirk, 
 With great self-denial they stopped his screw, 
 
 And gave him a lot more work. 
 
 And soon they observed with glee, 
 
 By working him day and night, 
 Finances appeared in some slight degree 
 
 To stand in a better light. 
 
 Yet often I think, Ah ! well, 
 
 They may have been rash, but still 
 'Twas not all the fault of of unlucky L, 
 
 Nor of Ivlucatiou Hill.
 
 46 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 A EULINa PASSION ; 
 
 on, THB ORIGIN OF THE LEEDS HIGHWAY COMMITTEE. 
 By a BituKiATE Tkadk.smax. 
 
 'Tis not at all a pleasant task 
 
 For i-oally good and earnest nu'n 
 Their follows' folly to unmask, 
 
 And talcs of I'ockloss vice to pen. 
 It fills an honest breast with woo 
 
 When tailors get on horses' backs, 
 
 To follow in those tailors' tracks, 
 To point out where those tailors go. 
 
 But frequently the righteous find 
 
 (At least I've found it nia.ny times) 
 It is their duty to mankind 
 
 To dwell on other peoples' crimes. 
 For those who feel an inner light 
 
 Which lifts them far above the host, 
 
 To be a moral finger-post. 
 Is only Christiandiko and right. 
 
 Desire for the public weal, 
 
 Affection for my native land, 
 A re leading me to now reveal 
 
 The origin of that dread band. 
 Within our midst — of beings dark. 
 
 Those creatures long estranged from grace, 
 
 Whose hatred of the human race 
 Just now excites so much remark — 
 
 I may not here disclose the name 
 
 By which this band is known on earth ; 
 
 Those foes to man, who, dead to shame. 
 On every side give Ruin birth. 
 
 Unnumbered terrors rise to daze 
 The wielder of too bold a pen, 
 So, for the nonce, we'll call these men 
 
 The Leeds Committee of Highways. 
 
 They once were young ; their youthful cheek 
 Seemed for no brazen end designed, 
 
 And innocence had, so to speak, 
 Around each infant brow entwined. 
 
 I may, too, venture to remark, 
 Without direct authority. 
 They sported round a mother's knee, 
 
 And went to bed soon after dai-k.
 
 LOCAL LTBICS. 4<7 
 
 Thus passed their youth in guileless sport, 
 
 Until on one ill-fated day 
 They chanced, in play, to dig a sort 
 
 Of pit across a public way. 
 And then behind a slielterinar wall. 
 
 As night drew ni^h, in chddish glee 
 
 They clapped their little hands to see 
 The British piiblic trip and fall. 
 
 As time passeil on this boyish taste 
 
 For gazing on the public's woe 
 Increased until they soon laid waste 
 
 Most thoroughfares where people go. 
 Nor could they, in the end, restrain 
 
 Their wish for those delirious sweets 
 
 Which flow from paving busy streets 
 And pulling of them up again. 
 
 This passion, with increasing strength. 
 
 Sweeps on with such resistless foi'ce, 
 That every street will be at length 
 
 Impassable to man or horse. 
 And from balloons poised high in air 
 
 The sole survivers soon may note 
 
 Strange shadowy forms which love to gloat 
 Upon the wreck and ruin there. 
 
 THE CONSCIENTIOUS aEOCEK. 
 
 Although the writer, from hi.s soul, 
 Admires Conscience on the whole. 
 He's driven to admit that she 
 'S by no means what she ought to be. 
 
 Her character in some respects 
 Is marred by certain grave defects. 
 By tendencies, in short, to shirk 
 Her great and necessary work. 
 
 I know not if false pride has made 
 Stem Conscience hold aloof from trade. 
 But still 'tis clear she folds her wings. 
 And leaves most tradesmen free from stings. 
 
 Tliis being so, how sweet to find 
 One trader singled from his kind, 
 A hunran grocer, true, and yet 
 The monitor's especial pet.
 
 48 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 For leani that Mr. Jinks possessed 
 A moral nalui'o of the best, 
 And even curates have been known 
 To deem it equal to tlieir own. 
 
 Affection for tlie true and good 
 Appeared to run in Jiuks's blood, 
 To take bis very shutters iti 
 To such a man was half a sin. 
 
 \Vhen thus, in purity arrayed, 
 He bought a grocer's stock-in-trade. 
 He deemed it wise to ask advice 
 Respecting quality and price. 
 
 " Well," said liis worldly neighbours, " see. 
 You take, for instance, this here tea," 
 And then, by way of lending aid, 
 They taught him all the tricks of trade. 
 
 " No," said the noble grocer, " no ; 
 The price is not ' absurdly ' low, 
 Nor does the quality astound 
 Humanity the woi-ld ai'ound. 
 
 " And I, despite your sneer and scoff. 
 Deny that 1 am ' selling off 
 At awful loss,' nor can I say 
 My goods are all to ' give away.' 
 
 > 71 
 
 Then he revised his stock, at length, 
 To test its quality and strength, 
 Regardiug all, 1 need not say. 
 In a most calm, judiciul way. 
 
 His sugar, he discovered soon, 
 Was not a universal boon ; 
 And placards mournfully confessed 
 That " Jinks's tea was not the best." 
 
 But will great Virtue leave her own 
 True worshippers unloved, alone. 
 To be Misfortune's prey and sport ? 
 By no means ; nothing of the sort ! 
 
 Jinks soon observed that round his doors 
 The populace drew nigh in scores. 
 To gaze on nature's latest freak — 
 The man whose goods were not UDique.
 
 LOCA.L LYRICS. 
 
 As ho who, visiting a shrine, 
 Endeared by memories divine, 
 Some slight memento seeks to glean 
 That may remind him of the scene — 
 
 So did that populace with prayers 
 Beseech of Jinks to sell his wares ; 
 Each leaf of tea, each grain of rice. 
 Commanding almost any price. 
 
 Before a week away had rolled 
 The wealth of Jinks became untold, 
 And he, I scarcely need remark, 
 Retii'ed to a ducal park. 
 
 So philanthropic were his deeds 
 He soon became M.P. for Leeds ; 
 And now, from out his plenteous store, 
 Gives fountains daily for the Moor. 
 
 49 
 
 NEMESIS. 
 
 Oftentimes when disappointment 
 Dogs the footsteps of a man, 
 
 Hope applies her balmy ointment. 
 Soothing him beneath its ban. 
 
 So thought Blogging (Mr. Blogging 
 Really first originated 
 The idea which I have stated 
 
 Relative to footstep dogging.) 
 
 Blogging too had reason really 
 To complain of fortune's spite. 
 
 She appeared to pain him merely 
 For her personal delight. 
 
 Though he sent a Press benighted 
 Genial poems, by the ton : 
 They were stifled, one by one, 
 
 Thus is Genius oft requited. 
 
 Editoi's and all connected 
 With a would-be comic Press, 
 
 Met at midnight, unsuspected. 
 To defraud him of success. 
 
 Secretly as I have hinted 
 
 Did those envious villains meet 
 Blogging's genius to defeat 
 
 (So his poems were not printed).
 
 50 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 It was wlu-n tlieso fiends obtruded 
 
 Their blaclc shadows on his way 
 Hope, to which I have alluded, 
 
 O'er his patliway cast a ray. 
 Dreiuiis of veoKoance floated o'er him. 
 
 Murder, dainty and refined, 
 
 Occupied his poot-iniud, 
 Passed in many forms before him. 
 
 Ves ; he had resolved to slay them, 
 
 'J'he entire comic press, 
 Seeing tliat uo hand could stay them 
 
 In their course of recklessness, 
 rity to his heai-t appealing 
 
 Might bring salt tears to his eye, 
 
 And he settled they should die. 
 More in sorrow than ill-feeling. 
 
 Pallid, yet with self-reliance, 
 He arose at dead of night, 
 
 With an air of grim defiance. 
 Slowly he commenced to write. 
 
 Lest I scare the timid-hearted 
 
 His note's contents 1 conceal. 
 
 But be sealed it with a seal. 
 
 Stuck a stamp on and departed. 
 * * * * 
 
 Morning broke ! why. Morning, must you 
 Always break and let in Day ? 
 
 Why on earth, too, does Day trust you. 
 When you act in such a way ? 
 
 Well, it was the morn in question 
 That an Editor did see. 
 And did read unwittingly, 
 
 A weird note with Blogging"s crest on. 
 
 All that day wild shrieks of laughter 
 Shook his otHce as averred. 
 
 And for nearly five days after 
 
 Short spasmodic gasps were heard. 
 
 And the bailiffs one day calling. 
 Saw, aghast, with bated breath, 
 He had laughed himself to death, 
 
 Thus was vengeance quick in falling. 
 
 MORAL FOR COMIC PRESS. 
 
 If your hate be undiminished, 
 Take a warning by his fall. 
 For I tell you, one and all, 
 
 Blogging's work is still unfinished.
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 51 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN ENGLISHMAN. 
 
 From the " Heat I ten Chinee^s" point of view. 
 
 Whicli I wish to remark, 
 
 And my language is plain, 
 
 That for ways that are dark 
 
 And for longings for gain, 
 
 The Christian man is peculiar. 
 
 Which the same I would rise to explain. 
 
 For he sings in his joy, 
 " I am happy and free, 
 With no foes to annoy. 
 And my ships rule the sea.'' 
 And they therefore sail over with opium 
 To poison the heathen Chinee. 
 
 " Their condition is sad 
 
 (Which the same is a fact), 
 
 They are dying like mad 
 
 So I'll send them a tract." 
 
 And a smile criimples up his bland features 
 
 As he thinks of his Christian act. 
 
 So we say to this man ; 
 ' ' What you state it is true, 
 We are under a ban 
 (For the good of your screw) 
 For the trade which means ruin to ChinA 
 Means very fair profits to you. 
 
 Then he smiles a sad smile, 
 And he winks with his eye ; 
 " We are making a pile. 
 He observes with a sigh, 
 By this traffic. So, though I am sorry, 
 I fear this poor heathen must die." 
 
 VYhich I wish to remark 
 
 And my language is plain. 
 
 That for ways that are dark. 
 
 And for longings for gain, 
 
 The Christian man is peculiar ; 
 
 Which the same 1 am free to maintain.
 
 52 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 HUMILITY. 
 
 Bv AN Aspirant. 
 
 From youth profound liuitiillty lias been my leading trait, 
 From iinytliing approaeliini,' prido I'm sim^'ularly free ; 
 
 But still, in common justice, I feel called upon to say 
 That Nature never framed a man to be compared witli me. 
 
 Now, when a person like myself is competent to guide 
 Perclv.inco a nation's destinies, you'll own it isn't fair 
 
 That Fate should seize npon that man who's Nature's boast and pride, 
 And gives him eighteen-pence a day for cutting people's hair. 
 
 I take this opportunity most solemnly to charge 
 You, my friends, to execute a plan sublimely high. 
 
 By which the populations of the universe at large 
 May definitely settle where my genius seems to lie. 
 
 Give Salisbury a holiday, 'mid Hatfield's dales and trees. 
 
 And let me, standing in his place, the robes of otlice don 
 To steer the vessel of the State through home and foreign seas 
 
 For some short given space of time, to see how I go on. 
 
 And if within a week or so (the time we may have fixed") 
 You think the present Government superior to mine,'i 
 
 If Britain's Constitution should be getting rather mixed — 
 Well, then, you have my woi-d fur it — I'll instantly resign. 
 
 Then, having found my mental strength lies not in party strife, 
 Perhaps good Dr. Benson, he of Canterbury's see, 
 
 Might be induced to turn his thoughts to other walks in life. 
 And hand his haughty Ijishopric for some brief time to me. 
 
 Fn things ecclesiastical, presuming T am weak, 
 Art, letters, science might be found to aid my great design ; 
 
 And if on these I fail to shed the radiance one would seek, 
 A transcendental hangman I might ultimately shine. 
 
 I just suggest this little plan because I think it right 
 
 The world should know the sentiments which agitate my breast. 
 
 Of course it may turn out, you know, I'm not a shining light ; 
 But stiU this little scheme of mine would set the thing at rest. 
 
 /
 
 LOCAL LYETCS. 53 
 
 TO NATUEE. 
 
 A COMPLAINT. 
 
 O, Nature fair, pray take a eliair, 
 
 I hail this opijoi-tunity 
 To greet a dame whose wide-spread fame 
 
 Oft thrills the bard comraunity. 
 
 Thy flow'r and field wild raptures yield 
 
 To me uo senseless heathen I ; 
 I'm certain none tby rising sun 
 
 Observe with purer glee than I. 
 
 Thy forests, dales, thy hills and vales, 
 
 The skies, thy broad philactery ; 
 Thy cIoikIs, though dark, I may remai-k 
 
 Are all most satisfactory. 
 
 Still, Nature great, I'm bound to state, 
 You make some strange mistakes at times, 
 
 With all your force, I think the course 
 Is wrong your queeuship takes at times. 
 
 Now take my case, why should mj- face 
 
 So beam with joviality ? 
 You know yourself I am an elf 
 
 With slight cause for hilarity. 
 
 Most features wear a look of care 
 
 When Fortune bent on riling is. 
 But though Fate's frown may crush me down. 
 
 My countenance still smiling is. 
 
 Is life's stern task less hard, I ask, 
 
 For me than for my Ijrotlier man ? 
 Don't my friends slope, my girls elope, 
 
 Like those of any other man ? 
 
 Don't I miss trains ? Don't dental pains 
 
 Gnaw me with, fierce avidity ? 
 Yet still my face shuns sorrow's trace 
 
 With unabashed placidity. 
 
 Then look at Jinks, no artful minx 
 
 J/i.s- wounded feelings jokes about : 
 He keeps good wine, goes out to dine, 
 
 With all the county folks about. 
 E
 
 nt LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 Of iiohlo 1)irtli, srrciit uionil woi'tli 
 (Swift liiuisoras didly ilriveii in). 
 
 And, cause t'cir ffloo, a houso rent fn^o, 
 With rouls and gas both ^ivcii in. 
 
 Tliougli grutilied on oviM-y !^iil<' 
 His ligbtest fancies uliolly arc, 
 
 His gloomy cliodc would seem to spoalc 
 Of morbid niulancliolia. 
 
 So, Nature dear, 'tis very clear 
 Tbat, though inm never thought of it, 
 
 Jinks has iny phi/, :iud I have his, 
 And that's the long and short of it. 
 
 And so, although, of course, I know 
 It's too late to transfer again ; 
 
 Still, when you trace a human face 
 Please don't let this occur again. 
 
 THE ASTUTE HEATHEN. 
 
 Alas ! how frequently the Hard 
 Is io;ced, by duty's strangely hard 
 
 Inexorable codes, 
 To quit all bright siml-eheering verse, 
 And make bis jibbing muse rehearse 
 
 Most gloomy episodes. 
 
 Yet ever, from his earliest youth, 
 
 The Bard has worshipped abstract truth, 
 
 So for the common weal 
 He now sets forth, without disguise. 
 This tale of misplaced enterprise, 
 
 And false religious zeal. 
 
 Some years ago, from Africa's strand 
 A gruesome story came to hand 
 
 About a savage chief, — 
 A man whose darkened state bad hurled 
 The Iralk of the religious world 
 
 In agonies of grief. 
 
 /■
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 It seemed this sad old nigger boy 
 His leisure moments would employ 
 
 In forcing stalwart braves 
 To strive in savage, gory fray, 
 Till one or botb were borne away 
 
 To premature gi-aves. 
 
 The Christian Press received a shock ; 
 The Quiver shook ; the very Rock 
 
 Seemed stricken to its base ; 
 The Sunday Chimes and Sahbafh Bells 
 Expressed their grief in mournful knells 
 
 At such a lack of grace. 
 
 It chanced that good old Bishop B., 
 A priest of High Church views was he. 
 
 Turned Afric-wards his gaze, 
 And soon resolved to quit his see, 
 To try to teach King M'jeejee 
 
 The error of his ways. 
 
 " King M'jeejee " (the heathen's name) 
 " I feel has got the strongest claim," 
 
 The worthy Bishop said ; 
 " Upon my love, I'll go at once 
 And show this grievous moral dunce 
 
 The paths he ought to tread." 
 
 And so he sailed aci-oss the seas 
 With Butler's apt Analogies 
 
 Piled high within the hold ; 
 And Paley's works in heaps he took, 
 That heathen's sinful goose to cook. 
 
 And bring him to the fold. 
 
 One night, when it was growing late, 
 He reached the dusky potentate. 
 
 And sti-aightway he began 
 To show, vFith great persuasive tact, 
 How Christian people always act 
 
 Towards their fellow-man. 
 
 " Observe," he cried, " O savage dark, 
 The sul)tle harmonies which mark 
 
 My land's distinctive creed ; 
 We dote upon the human race. 
 And fold our foes in fond embrace. 
 
 From hatred's shackles frec'd."
 
 .')(; LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 The good v\d Bishop said his say, 
 And long before the hreak of day 
 
 The monarch holier grew ; 
 Indeed the sinner, some assert. 
 Was passing easy to convert 
 
 To any point of view. 
 
 Still, cheered by moral victory. 
 The energetic Bishop B. 
 
 In cliasublp and stole. 
 Proceeded to at once infuse 
 His nltra-Hitualistic views 
 
 Into that native's soul. 
 
 Huge candles burne<l upon the rocks, 
 And in a rude unpolished box 
 
 Confession found a home ; 
 Though when alone M'jeejee winked, 
 Still, day by day, grew more distinct 
 
 His tendencies to Rome. 
 
 Now to M'jeejee's land there came 
 A new divine — John Gibbs by name ; 
 
 On Christian mission bent 
 He, all unlike his reverend pal, 
 Was fiercely evangelical — 
 
 Nay, bordered on dissent. 
 
 The King received him with a smile ; 
 The Reverend John in Horid style 
 
 Proceeded to expound 
 His doctrines with becoming glee. 
 And soon in that dai'k heathen he 
 
 A willing convert found. 
 
 Now when good Bishop B. roturnod 
 To find his sacred symbols burned — • 
 
 His artless desert child 
 A pervert to a stranger's whim- 
 It speedily occurred to him 
 
 To grow distinctly riled. 
 
 Between those parsons words arose, 
 From words they quickly x^assed to blows. 
 
 From fists they came to knives ; 
 And greatly to the King's delight. 
 They never met without a fight 
 
 Which threatened both their lives.
 
 LOCAL LYKICS. 57 
 
 In turn the wily King expressed 
 His deep aud earnest interest 
 
 In each religious plan, 
 This made those shepherds tiercely rave, 
 And strive more eagerly to save 
 
 So tractable a man. 
 
 But still that savage winked aud winked 
 Till both the rivals were extinct. 
 
 Worn out by constant frays ; 
 And when they neatly were entombed, 
 He heaved a sigli, and straight resumed 
 
 His old disgraceful ways. 
 
 CONNECTED WITH TEADE. 
 
 By a Heavy Swell. 
 
 () Fortune, thy favours are oft sbowered down 
 
 On beings who move in the humblest sphei-e ; 
 While the nobly born are looked on with a fi-own, 
 
 And seek, sometimes in vain, for a copper for beer. 
 Why is it, O Fortune, confound you, explain 
 
 Wliy the humblest mortals thy darlings are made, 
 When I, their superior, woo thee in vain — 
 
 I, a man who was never connected with trade P 
 
 There are radical villains who venture to say 
 
 That I ought to ea7-n money, to wear labour's gyves ; 
 I, whose ancestors down from the Conqueror's day,l 
 
 Never earned a red cent in the whole of their lives. 
 And on me all their brilliant honours reflect, 
 
 For theirs is a glory which never can fade. 
 And I think I'm entitled at least to respect. 
 
 From the fact they were never connected with trade. 
 
 There are some disadvantages, though, in the fact 
 
 That a man, when his ancestors long have been dead 
 And have left him no money, is not free to act, 
 
 For their memory hinders him earning his bread. 
 And hopes that are brightest are sometimes dashed down 
 
 By the feeling that dead eyes see how he behaves, 
 And tlie dread of incurring those ancestors' frown, 
 
 If tlioy (,-hanced for a moment to peep from their gnives.
 
 LOCAFi lA'RICS. 
 
 I can 8oe a fair face in tlio luiln oF liffht. 
 
 In its cliissiciil hoauty, pale, perfect, divine, 
 But Fi)rtuue, of course, with her usual si)ite, 
 
 Draws between us ;it once ;iu impassable line. 
 (), I often ean see her, she never <,'rows old, 
 
 But remains like a lily iu sprins,'-time nrriiyod ; 
 Ah ! how she mij^ht have brightened my life now so cold, 
 
 But her friends were, in some way, connected with trade. 
 
 Well, time and misfortune are fa^t passing by. 
 
 And in lonely old ajje consolation I'll find 
 In remembering how much superior 1 
 
 Am compared with the labouring half of manlvind ; 
 And when life's shaky light Hickers down in my lamp, 
 
 They may write on my tomb.stone when nature is paid — 
 ' He Tuight be a great fool, an unprincipled scamp, 
 
 But he never had any connection with trade." 
 
 DONE IN THE DAEKNESS. 
 
 He told how murderers walk the earth. 
 Beneath the curse of Cain. 
 
 He hurries along, he never heeds 
 
 The cold and bitter wind, 
 He never looks to the right or left , 
 
 He never looks behind ; 
 To all save the track which lies before 
 
 His staring eyes are blind. 
 
 On, on through the black and stormy night, 
 
 As though swift fiends pursue. 
 And the gleaming lightniug tints his face 
 
 A ghastly leaden hue ; 
 On, — for that shadow-like form ere morn 
 
 Has dreadful work to do. 
 
 He halts on the brink of a lonely pool. 
 
 Black, and of depth unknown. 
 He bends, and with guilty, trembling hands 
 
 He grasps a rugged stone ; 
 Then the lightning's sudden flash reveals 
 
 That he is not alone.
 
 LOCAL LYRICS. 59 
 
 O sln-iek not, doomed wretch ! tby cries for help 
 
 Would die in the wind's wild roar ; 
 One sudden grapple of blood-stained hands, 
 
 One splash — and then all is o'er ; 
 And a murderer murmurs — " That owd cat 
 
 Wean't keep me awake no more ! " 
 
 CHAHLES GEORGE GORDON. 
 
 Died 1885. 
 
 A year ago, ere Spring's alchemic vigour 
 
 To gold changed Winter's dross, 
 All Europe turned to watch a lonely figure 
 
 Set out from Charing Cross. 
 
 A soldier, aye, and yet no drum's gay rattle. 
 
 No warlike pomp and show, 
 Attends this warrior on his way to battle, 
 
 Alone he meets the foe. 
 
 A strange invader : to those hostile regions 
 
 He brings no sword of flume ; 
 He bears alone, to quell vast rebel legions, 
 
 The magic of his name. 
 
 With bated breath and wildly straining vision. 
 
 We watch this man's career ; 
 This hero pressing on his god-like mission, 
 
 Unchecked by human fear. 
 
 Vain task, for soon in his beleaguered xirison 
 
 We see him brought to bay. 
 Around the walls ten thousand bayonets glisten 
 
 To bar the hero's way. 
 
 And then, but ah, you know the dreary story, 
 
 The help which came too late. 
 Came but to find the city red and gory, 
 
 The foe within the gate. 
 
 No matter ; he has reached the wished-for haven, 
 
 And on the rock of fame, 
 Where 13ritish valour is for aye engraven, 
 
 Foremost stands Gcjrdon's jiame.
 
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