As heedless, helpless, hopeless here;
These wring the false one’s heart enough
If made of penetrable stuff.
From The Black Mousquetaire (The Ingoldsby Legends.)
A Song For the Million.
When Harry Brougham turns a Tory,
Too late convinc’d that Whigs betray,
What can revive his tarnish’d glory?
What his desertion best repay?