Punch certainly missed a great opportunity for a chivalrous tribute to a lady whose unhappiness was greater than her rank, to say nothing of a text for a sermon on the notorious ineptitude of assassins in the choice of victims. Still, it was a harder theme than that which inspired Punch's most notable memorial verses in 1898—the death of Mr. Gladstone. The writer contrasts his end with that of those who have died in their early prime or the ripeness of their manhood, and continues:—
But you, O veteran of a thousand fights,
Whose toil had long attained its perfect end—
Death calls you not as one that claims his rights,
But gently as a friend.
For though that matchless energy of mind
Was firm to front the menace of decay,
Your bodily strength on such a loss declined
As only Death could stay.
So then with you 'tis well, who after pain,