THE LAUREATE IN PARLIAMENT.
You ask me why, though ill at ease,
I sit among those Vere de Veres,
I used to curse in former years,
Pooh-poohing all their pedigrees.
My answer's plain as it is true,
Although of just and old renown,
My fame is flattening slowly down,
And yieldeth not its wonted due.
This state of things I can't afford.
My dramas and my later lays
Have brought me neither pence nor praise.
And, after all, a lord's a lord
And so I joined the upper set,
I know the seasons, when to take
Macmillan by the hand, and make
My poems fly far wider yet.
I speak not of my works to you
Who have them—they shall further go,
The many-headed beast shall know,
That he must learn to read them too.
Yet blame me not for pride or pelf,
I've royal blood, the heralds say,
Insisting on it, yea or nay.
(I never heard of it myself).
And, furthermore, you ought to know
'Twas not my doing, I was sent—
The Premier ordered me, I went;
What man can stay when he says "Go?"
I'd vote for some august decree
Strong as the fabled towers of Ilium,
Broad-based upon the people's William!
Do anything, he asked of me!
Well, yes, the House is dull, but still
A useful haunt, where sitting down,
(Extremely handy when in town)
A man may eat the thing he will.
I only said, the House was dreary!
Wit cometh not, with help to keep
One's eyes awake; but I can sleep
Like others there that grow aweary!
I hold it true whate'er befall.
That, though in bed more quiet kept,
'Tis better to have sat and slept
Than never to have slept at all.
But yet should faction gather head,
Till by degrees to fullness wrought,
Men speak much louder than they ought;
I'll take the train, and go to bed.
Yes, waft me from the brainless mouth,
Wild wind! I seek a calmer sky,
And I will reach before I die
My old home island in the South!