Volume 93 — FIRE AND WATER.

The Fire Fiend was curst with unquenchable thirst, And his gnomes to his aid having beckoned, From Cornhill to Clapham he flew at a burst, And furious flames soon arose from the first, And volumes of smoke from the second. The Fire Fiend was hungry as Moloch of old, And knew not the meaning of pity. The new Edax Rerum; voraciously bold, His maw a red gulf that was ready to hold The calcined remains of a City. That Phlegethon-gorge might have served as the grave Of man and his works altogether; But Shaw, the new Life-guardsman, swordless but brave, Was ever at hand to extinguish and save, And hold the Red Ogre in tether. The Fire Fiend as usual went at full pelt, But Shaw at his heels followed faster, Of leather well tanned were Shaw's boots and his belt, And his helmet was brazen for fear it should melt, And the Fire Demon knew him as master. The Fire Fiend possessed a most hideous phiz, Polyphemus's was not more horrid, Unkempt and unwashed was that visage of his, For water that touched it went off with a whiz! It wasso tremendously torrid. But Shaw on his enemy kept a cool eye, Of vigilant valour the symbol. Affrighted no more by the Fire Demon's cry Than the squeak of a rat; if the Fire Fiend was spry, His opponent was equally nimble. For Water, Fire's foe, at his best freely flows, And the Fire Demon dares not to linger Whenever his enemy turns on the hose; He stands in much fear of this foeman and those Who flock at the lift of his finger. The Fire Fiend has schemes, it is credibly said, For laying half London in ashes; But Water—and Shaw—are the things he must dread, And at sight of an engine he shakes his red head, And his teeth like a lunatic gnashes. But his fire-gnomes he multiplies lately so fast That the task of repressing them's trying; The flare that they make and the heat that they cast Are so great that the Fiend seems resolved in one blast To set the Metropolis frying. He blazes and blazes; Shaw gallops to snatch His prey from its desperate danger; But the Demon's a deuce of a rider to catch, And it taxes brave Shaw to continue a match For the fiery noctivagant ranger. And if London is wise she assistance will call, For the Water King needs the alliance Of hands that are sturdy and limbs that are tall, To give the Fire Demon a rattling good fall, And set all his imps at defiance. How often his fiery flame-banner outrolled O'er London our bosoms has shaken! The Water King never relaxes his hold, But many a time, if the truth must be told, We have just, only just, saved our bacon. The Fire-Fiend's a foe of redoubtable might, And it takes a stout fighter to floor him; Yet, in spite of his flames, the ignipotent sprite Has been licked up to now by our fire-quelling knight, Who strides so triumphantly o'er him. Look! look! 'tis our Water-King; doesn't he stand Like Michael, o'ercoming the Dragon? Oh! champion braver than he and his band Of brazen-helmed heroes ne'er fought hand to hand, Or emptied a flask or a flagon. His sword is an axe, and his spear is a hose, But Paladins famous in story For gallantest charges and swashingest blows, Though demons and dragons they met as their foes Were ne'er more deserving of glory. Back, lurid in air, for another regale, The Fire-Fiend who's down but not settled, With fresh bellowsed flame will return without fail, And help to oppose him he'll thankfully hail Our Water-King manly and mettled. He is down, but not dead, and his dreadful red head He again will be lifting to-morrow. 'Tis Hydrant 'gainst Hydra, and shall it be said That for lack of assistance this demon so dread Shall doom the great City to sorrow? This fierce All-devourer is hungry as Time, And would wolf all the world as food-fuel. A champion we have—is his pose not sublime?— And so let us help him—to fail were a crime— To give the Fire Demon his gruel. Fierce tyrant is Fire, and his foes are too few For a Fiend so alert and so furious, Would London be safe, gallant Shaw and his crew She must manfully back, and she'll find it won't do In this instance to be too penurious.