Volume 147 — TO MR. BERNARD JAW.

Illustrious Jester, who in happier days Amused us with your Prefaces and Plays, Acquiring a precarious renown By turning laws and morals upside down, Sticking perpetual pins in Mrs. Grundy, Railing at marriage or the British Sunday, And lavishing your acid ridicule On the foundations of imperial rule;— 'Twas well enough in normal times to sit And watch the workings of your wayward wit, But in these bitter days of storm and stress, When souls are shown in all their nakedness, Your devastating egotism stands out Denuded of the last remaining clout. You own our cause is just, yet can't refrain From libelling those who made its justice plain; You chide the Prussian Junkers, yet proclaim Our statesmen beat them at their own vile game. Thus, bent on getting back at any cost Into the limelight you have lately lost, And, high above war's trumpets loudly blown On land and sea, eager to sound your own, We find you faithful to your ancient plan Of disagreeing with the average man, And all because you think yourself undone Unless in a minority of one. Vain to the core, thus in the nation's need You carp and cavil while your brothers bleed, And while on England vitriol you bestow You offer balsam to her deadliest foe.