A people’s champion, thorough-bred!
Active, with fair and open hand,
Honest of heart and sound of head,
But yet a scourge upon the land!
No avalanche, no winter-blast,
No flood, nor frost, nor famine-fast
Leaves half the ruin in its rear
That such a man does, year by year.
Life only by a plague is reft;
But he——! How many a thought is cleft,