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s.' XXI Not she, when struggling manhood tries For freedom, air, a hopefuller fate, Points out the planet, Compromise, And shakes a mild reproving pate: XXII Says never: 'I am well at ease, My sneers upon the weak I shed: The strong have my cajoleries: And those beneath my feet I tread.' XXIII Nay, but 'tis said for her, great Lord! The misery's there! The shameless one Adjures mankind to sheathe the sword, Herself not yielding what it won:- XXIV Her sermon at cock-crow doth preach, On sweet Prosperity--or greed. 'Lo! as the beasts feed, each for each, God's blessings let us take, and feed!' XXV Ungrateful creatures crave a part - She tells them firmly she is full; Lost sheared sheep hurt her tender heart With bleating, stops her ears with wool:- XXVI Seized sometimes by prodigious qualms (Nightmares of bankruptcy and death), - Showers down in lumps a load of alms, Then pants as one who has lost a breath; XXVII Believes high heaven, whence favours flow, Too kind to ask a sacrifice For what it specially doth bestow; - Gives SHE, 'tis generous, cheese to mice. XXVIII She saw the young Dominion strip For battle with a grievous wrong, And curled a noble Norman lip, And looked with half an eye sidelong; XXIX And in stout Saxon wrote her sneers, Denounced the waste of blood and coin, Implored the combatants, with tears, Never to think they could rejoin. XXX Oh! was it England that, alas! Turned sharp the victor to cajole? Behold her features in the glass: A monstrous semblance mocks her soul! XXXI A false majority, by stealth, Have got her fast, and sway the rod: A headless tyrant built of wealth, The hypocrite, the belly-God. XXXII To him the daily hymns they raise: His tastes are sought: his will is done: He sniffs the putrid steam of praise, Place for true England here is none! XXXIII But can a distant race discern The difference 'twixt her and him? My friend, that will you bid them learn. He shames and binds her, head and limb. XXXIV Old wood has blossoms of this sort. Though sound at core, she is old w
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