FAREWELL TO McGLADSTONE.
(From the Heart of Midlothian.)
["I must here add, in explicit terms, the few decisive words to which, after all that has happened, I feel a natural reluctance to give utterance. It is not my intention, at the age I have now reached, to ask re-election (for Midlothian) when the present Parliament shall be dissolved."—Mr. Gladstone's Farewell Letter to Midlothian.]
Air—"Farewell to Mackenzie."
Farewell to McGladstone, great Chief of the North!
Midlothian remembers when first setting forth,
The Chieftain she's mourning his course here began,
Launching forth on wild billows his bark like a man,
And stirring all hearts with his eloquent voice.—
Farewell to McGladstone, the Chief of our choice!
O swift was his galley, and hardy his crew,
Her Captain was skilful, her mariners true.
In danger undaunted, unwearied by toil,
Though the storms might arise, and the billows might boil,
In the wind and the warfare he seemed to rejoice.—
Farewell to McGladstone, the Chief of our choice!
Blow bland on his parting, thou sweet southland gale!
Like the sighs of his sailors breathe soft on his sail;
Be prolong'd as regret that his vassals must know,
Be fair as their faith, and sincere as their woe:
Be so soft, and so fair, and so friendly of voice,
Wafting homeward McGladstone, the Chief of our choice!
He was pilot experienced, and trusty, and wise,
To measure the seas, and to study the skies;
He would hoist all her canvas on Victory's tack,
Kind Heaven crowd it fuller when wafting him back
To his home in far Hawarden, where hearts will rejoice
To welcome McGladstone, the Chief of our choice.
Midlothian no more! 'Tis a sorrowful cry,
And we gaze on the waves, and we glance at the sky;
We shall long, when clouds darken and wild waves o'erwhelm,
For his voice through the gale, for his hand on the helm.
Now we shout through the shadows, with tears in our voice:
Farewell to McGladstone, great Chief of our choice!
Midlothian no more! Faith, we fancy we hear
The cry of the Chieftain who never knew fear,
Stout still through its sadness, "Keep up the good fight!
Let Midlothian, let Scotland, still stand for the Right!"
The last burden brave of the valorous voice
Of dauntless McGladstone, great Chief of our choice!
Midlothian no more! In despite, Chief, of all,
The Heart of Midlothian responds to your call.
Its echoes shall live, though no longer your form
Shall steer us to sunshine, or cheer us in storm.
Then farewell to the presence, but not to the voice
Of "Auld Wullie" Gladstone, great Chief of our choice!