There is room for your relics with Madame Tussaud;
For the time has come round when Obstruction must cease,
Hark! the cry of “Move off!” from the Commons’ police!
H.B.
There is not, to the poet, a pleasure so sweet
As to win the two guineas for which we compete.
Oh, the joy I’d be feeling if you’d only “part”
Would instil some new energy into my heart.
Yet it is not that lately I’ve frequently seen
That my name ’mongst the “highly commended” has been;