"OBSTRUCTIONISTS."
(By a Lover of Longfellow, after spending Twenty-six Hours in the House of Commons.)
The shades of night were falling fast,
As through St. Stephen's portals passed
An Irish band, not over nice,
Whose banners bore the strange device—
"Obstructionists!"
Each brow was sad, each eye beneath
Glared at Cavan, Dungarvan, Meath;
And soon in Erin's brogue was heard
Again their policy absurd—
"Obstructionists!"
* * * *
"Tempt not the Commons," Northcote said,
"Dark lowers the tempest overhead;
Too long its rules have been defied;"
But still the Irish rowdies cried—
"Obstructionists!"
* * * *
"Beware the Ministerial branch—
Beware the Tory avalanche!"
Was Biggar's caution, and he smiled,
When for a nap he left the wild
"Obstructionists!"
At noon that day O'Donnell craved
A respite, but the Commons braved
The contest, and their only prayer
Was to demolish then and there—
"Obstructionists!"
The chaplain came his usual round,
The Commons sitting still he found,
Using each possible device
To crush that band, not over nice—
"Obstructionists!"
But late on that eventful day
The "stumbling blocks" were kicked away;
South Africa rejoiced afar,
And Biggar moaned, "It's done we are!"—
"Obstructionists!"
Funny Folks.