Some mute, good-humoured Brougham contented rest—
Some Sibthorp, guiltless of his country’s wit.
Mourn not the Houses burnt some years ago:
No vain regrets the ruin’d pile requires.
E’en from its dust a voice exclaims “Oh! oh!”
Even in our ashes live their wonted fires.
Punch, 1844.
——:o:——
Elegy in a London Theatre.
The curtain falls, the signal all is o’er,