Wanted, a politician
To fill a vacant place
In an administration
Which has sunk into disgrace.
He must not be ambitious
To cherish a good name,
But love humiliation,
And be partial to ill-fame!

Let him not think that England
For others' freedom cares,
Or that the cause of justice
Is part of her affairs;
That whether suffering peoples
Shall bear us love or hate,
Is matter to be pondered
By ministers of state!

To prayers of down-trod Christians
He must listen with a sneer,
But to the Moslem story
Lend sympathizing ear,
And bold that for these evils
'Tis vain to seek a cure,
For Turks must slay and outrage,
That England may endure!

He must not halt or murmur,
Tho' dreading what may come
Of Asiatic schemings,
Which sound like muffled drum;
But let the world imagine
That it is his greatest joy
To be the tool of Judah,
And the lacquey of Alroy!

He must without a scruple
Lead his countrymen to think
That the abyss is distant,
Though they are on the brink;
Must practise double-dealing
To serve his chief's caprice,
And when they're plotting mischief,
Pretend they are for peace!

And lastly, no misgivings
Must cause him to resign,
Or own a higher master
Whose dictates are divine!
On ministers with morals
No statesman can rely,
So people who are pious
Had better not apply!
Spectator. .

What we, when face to face we see
The Father of our souls, shall be,
John tells us, doth not yet appear;
Ah, did he tell what we are here!

A mind for thoughts to pass into,
A heart for loves to travel through,
Five senses to detect things near, —
Is this the whole that we are here?

Rules baffle instincts, instincts rules;
Wise men are bad, and good are fools;
Facts evil, wishes vain, appear, —
We cannot go, why are we here?

Oh, may we for assurance' sake
Some arbitrary judgment take,
And wilfully pronounce it clear,
For this or that 'tis we are here?

Or is it right, and will it do,
To pace the sad confusion through,
And say: It doth not yet appear
What we shall be, what we are here?

Ah, yet, when all is thought and said,
The heart still overrules the head;
Still what we hope we must believe,
And what is given us receive.

Must still believe, for still we hope
That in a world of larger scope,
What here is faithfully begun
Will be completed, not undone.

My child, we still must think, when we
That ampler life together see,
Some true result will yet appear
Of what we are together here.

Yes, all is ended now, for I have weighed thee —
⁠Weighed the light love that has been held so dear —
Weighed word, and look, and smile that have betrayed thee,
⁠The careless grace that was not worth a tear.

Holding these scales, I marvel at the anguish
⁠For thing so slight that long my heart has torn —
For God's great sun the prisoner's eyes might languish,
⁠Not for a torch by some chance passer borne.

I do not blame thee for thy heedless playing
⁠On the strong chords whose answer was so full —
Do children care, through daisied meadows straying,
⁠What hap befalls the blossoms that they pull?

Go on, gay trifler! Take thy childish pleasure —
⁠On thee, for thee, may summer always shine —
Too stern were Justice should she seek to measure
⁠Thy fitful love by the strong pain of mine.