At the party Yahoo’s yelling men may smile,
But the fieriest Muse must sigh when the fine and fluent dreamer
Stoops like rancorous Lord Randolph to revile.
5.
What, you echo the coarse railings of the rude and rabid rabble,
Who cackle, and calumniate, and curse?
You drape their silly slander and their base insulting babble
With the brave, dishonoured vesture of your verse?
6.
Many a year your Muse has fulminated fiercely, we remember,