Ours is no stripling, no Knight of the Carpet!
Blooming at seventy, when shall he fade?
Him, of the People, in Peace or in War, pet,
Years cannot fetter, nor foes make afraid,
Firm as the fixèd rock,
Braving the tempest’s shock,
Faster he roots him the fiercer it blow.
England and Scotland then
Echo his praise agen,
“Gladstone victorious! Ho-ieroe!”