GRANDOLPH'S LATEST.
Yes; "one man in his time plays many parts,"
But Grandolph posing on a Temperance platform?
Young Tories who so praised their hero's arts
Hardly expected him to show in that form.
He was their Coming Champion; he'd revive
The memories of the mighty days of Beaky.
Him they could trust to keep the game alive;
Was he not vigorous, various, cool, and cheeky?
Gladstone he'd beard, Corruption he would throttle.
And here he stands behind the Water-Bottle!
As the political Puck he was rare fun,
As young Bellerophon he was a wonder;
He'd see that England had the biggest gun,
He'd end the era of expensive blunder.
E'en as Jack Sheppard collaring Gladstone's "swag,"
The Tory-Democratic hosts admired him;
And when he seemed to stumble or to lag,
They swore he'd be "all there"—when they required him.
But did they picture him upon the stump
As the Grand Young Apostle of the Pump?
He, whose amazing advent was all fire,
Stoop to the leaden level of cold water?
A spectacle indeed to tame and tire
The zeal of his most confident supporter.
What will Dunraven say? Quidnuncs will quiz,
And Balfour-worshippers will smirk and chuckle,
And ask if he considers it "good biz"
To the Teetotal interest to truckle.
They may be right—or wrong, these babblers busy.
They were not always right about Ben Dizzy.
Meanwhile he poses there as advocate
Of this last panacea of his adoption.
He holds the only way to save the State
Is Temperance, enforced by Local Option.
Spirited Foreign Policy? Anon!
Fiscal Economy? Quite secondary!
All is no use till the Drink-Demon's gone!
Bung, who so loved him, feels his colour vary;
And, while he perorates to all men's wonder.
Smug Wilfrid smiles and whispers, "That's my thunder!"