Shall still, with glorious Gladstone, lead!
Repulsed we are; not yet dismayed.
No isle whose shore the Atlantic laves
Can ever be the land of slaves.
Place what you will before the House,
There nothing, save an Irish bill,
Will pass. Meanwhile, let Liberals rouse—
Prove Liberal England’s Liberal still!
The Irish claim we must concede,
And have no Paper Union Creed.