Of his help, as of old; ’tis a parlous lure!
Pride, pity, and promise of fame!—
What lurketh behind it, that beautiful mask,
Will the good Saint see, will the good Saint ask?
Will he know that the Devil is at his old task?
Will he twig this last form of his game?
Ha! the good St. Gladstone boggles his eyes
Over that excellent book,
Ho! ho! at the corners they seem to rise.
He feels that the thing hath a lovely guise,