As they stand with lank purse at the treasury door;
While disgrace sorely galls, with his remnant of nouse,
The young politician’s a hack in the house.
Till at last in St. Stephen’s both early and late,
To divide for his party he bends to his fate,
Despis’d, poor and feeble he votes for each bill,
Brought in by the minister’s paramount will,
And now blank and silent an object of scorn,
On the very same bench he was used to adorn,
While his memory the treasury whipper-in jogs,