IX.
Her glorious form appears to him
In all its pristine pomp and glitter,
Equipped complete from head to heel,
In semblance of a stalwart Ritter.
With doublet slash, and fierce moustache,
And wrinkled boots of russet leather,
And hose and belt, with hat of felt
Surmounted by a capon's feather.
X.
Mysterious as Egyptian Sphinx,
A perfect riddle—who can solve her?
One while she comes with blazing links,
The next, she's armed with a revolver.
Across the main, whene'er the shoe
Upon her radiant instep pinches,
To-day, she'll tar and feather you;
To-morrow, and she merely Lynches.
XI.
While thus abroad, in varied guise,
We see the fair enchantress flitting,
She deigns to greet in other wise
Her latest satellites in Britain.
Sometimes, in black dissenting cloth,
She figures like an undertaker;
And sometimes plunges, nothing loath,
Into the garments of a Quaker.
XII.
You'll find her recommending pikes
At many a crowded Chartist meeting,
Where gentlemen, like William Sykes,
To exiled patriots vote their greeting.
You'll find her also with her friends,
Engaged upon a bloody errand,
When, stead of arguments, she sends
Her bludgeoneers to silence Ferrand.
XIII.
You'll find her too, at different dates,
With men of peace on platforms many,
Denouncing loans to foreign states
Whereof they could not raise a penny.
In short, to end the catalogue,
There's hardly any son of Edom
Who, in his character of rogue,
Won't tell you that he worships Freedom.
XIV.
Yet hold—one sample more—the last,
Ere of this theme we make a clearance;
One little month is barely past
Since London saw her grand appearance,
In one of those enormous hats,
Short leggings and peculiar jerkins,
Which men assume who tend the vats
Of Barclay and his partner Perkins.
XV.
To that great factory of beer,
Unconscious wholly of his danger,
Nor dreaming that a foe was near,
There came, one day, an aged stranger.
He was a soldier, and had fought
In other lands 'gainst revolution;
And done his utmost—so he thought—
To save his country's constitution.
XVI.
But saving states, like other things
Is not in highest vogue at present;
And those who stand by laws and kings
Must look for recompense unpleasant.
Fair Freedom, brooding o'er the drink
That makes the Briton strong and hearty,
Began to sneeze upon the brink
As though she scented Bonaparte.
XVII.
"Ah, ha!" she cried, and cried again—
At every word her voice grew louder—
"I smell an Austrian or a Dane,
I smell a minion of gunpowder!
Some servant of a kingly race
My independent nostril vexes!
Say—shall he dare to show his face,
Within this hall of triple X's?
XVIII.
"'Tis true—he is unarmed, alone,
A stranger, weak, and old, and hoary—
Yet—on, my children! heave the stone!
The less the risk, the more the glory!"
She ceased: and round the startled man,
As round the Indian crowds the cayman,
From vat, and vault, and desk, and van,
Thronged brewer, maltster, clerk, and drayman.