Chief—
Verbose rhetor, avaunt! I’ve well managed my clan;
Right or wrong, I rely on their votes to a man,
With our endless resources, no foeman we fear,
So woe to king Theebaw—
Wizard— Yet weep for the year.
Trade’s bad, sir, whatever your chemicals meant;
And outside of Ireland, folks will not pay rent.
Home interests were shelved, though oft Ministers met—
And look how the country has got into debt!