Punch (50.1866)

February 10, 1866.]

PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

53

PUNCH’S ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

See the proud Speaker, re-elected, stand,

The great Crown Lawyers upon either hand—
Palmer, who edited the Book of Praise,

And Collier, who the painter’s skill displays.

Above them Lord Llanover points doth moot
With Captain Grosvenor, smoking a cheroot.

Then see a splendid ring, its centre, Bright,
Grimly preparing for Reform to fight,

’Twere a good omen should his stubborn will
Yield to the chain of intellectual Mill,

O’er whom Tom Hughes, a man of brains and wit,
Still praises Yankeedom, nor heeds its split.

The blind, clear-sighted Fawcett means hard knocks,
And so does Torrens, he who ousted Cos.

There fiery Roebuck wields his ready lance,

And veteran Brougham hurries home from France.
Then mark Lord Ckanworth with his awful mace,
And Clarendon with discontented face,

Argyll’s bright hair, the gallant Granville’s form.
And Redcliffe, peering for a coming storm.

Major a nunc canamus, Public. Lo !

The great Reform Bill stands, a thing of snow.
Assistance Russell, Gladstone, Goschen, bring,
While Derby, Dizzy, Walpole, missiles fling.

The pipe may hint of smoke—the broom may mean
That something’s coming to make all things clean.
Peel, who “ resigned” (are you avized of that?)

To Fortescue hands over howling Pat.

Marches the gentle, rogue-reprieving Grey,

And Stafford Northcote various things doth say.
In tranquil slumber Milner Gibson lies.

Regardless of F. Kelly’s beer-boy cries,

And Charley Wood serene contempt displays
For Naval Lords who tug in different ways.

One, Clarence Paget, of the frank replies,

The other, Pakington, who—seems—so wise.

Outside, and to the left, Lord Northbrook’s tact
Instructs the younger Gladstone how to act.

Two fiery pigs you see enrich the show.

This pulls at Cardwell, and that tugs at Lowe.

The Cardwell pig, Beauseant, who madly squeaks,
Hints at Jamaican niggers and their freaks.

The gallant Hartington with pride displays
The British soldier to the British gaze.

While Kinglake taunts, in words best left unsaid,

A libellous doll he’d better put to bed.

Bulwer and Layabd in one chariot ride,

’Tis a great inkstand, each great author’s pride.
While Yilliers drops the sentimental tear.

And Stanley states what all are glad to hear.