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ers will suspect him to be the Honourable Mr. William HENRY Lyttelton, a gentleman who inherits at once the talents and modesty of his


“Ingenui vultus puer, ingenuique pudoris!”


I. The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,

When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.

II. Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, The host with their banners at sunset were seen ; Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,

That host on the morrow lay wither'd and strown.

III. For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, And breathed in the face of the foe as he past;


I. Old TierNEY came down like a wolf on the fold, And his phalanx of voters was boasting and bold; And the noise of their cheering resembled the roar,

As you shoot London Bridge when the tide is half o'er.

II. Like the rose-bush of summer, all budding and green, Their hopes, while the question was putting, were seen ; But, in two hours contest, so blighted and shorn, The bud was all gone; there remained but the


III. For the breath of the ocean came strong on the blast,

And bung'd up the eyes of old GeoRee as it pass'd:

And the eyes of the sleepers wax'd deadly and chill,
And their hearts but once heav'd, and for ever grew
still !

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,
But through it there roll'd not the breath of his pride;
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.

V. And there lay the rider distorted and pale, With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail: And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,

The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.

VI. And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, And the idols are broke in the Temple of Baal; And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!

And the hopes of his Party began to grow chill,
And their hearts quaked with sorrow, their voices
were still.
And there lay black BRough AM with his nostrils all
But though they were curl’d, it was not with pride;
And the froth of Gray BENNET lay light on the turf,
And the mouth-piece of WYNNE foam'd with anger
and surf.
And there LAMBTON lay, more than commonly pale;
And there ugly BoB, with a face like a tail;
HARRY MARTIN awoke; even NewPort was dumb;
And BARING look'd almost as frightful as B
And the waiters at BRooks's are loud in their wail,
And mute is the Holland-House Temple of Baal;


And the might of the party, in spite of big words,

Hath melted like snow, both in Commons and Lords.

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