So it lay like a hypocrite taking its rest,
With its weapons all around it.
Brief and stern was the service said,
In its own peculiar lingo;
By a Hebrew scribe was a chapter read
From the gospel according to Jingo.
Lightly we'll speak of the Ministry gone.
Nor o'er its cold ashes upbraid it,
We'll forgive a good deal if it only sleeps on
In the dishonoured past where we've laid it.