POETRY.

"THE NEW JEREMIAD."

BY AN OLD YEAR'S TORY.

Wn are a merry family, we are, indeed we are !

We feel that we were born beneath the true prophetic star; For north and south, and east and west, and everywhere we go, By day and night, and no respite, denouncing bitter woe.

We are a cheerful family, we are.

The griefs we wail are something stale, but none less dear for that, It's not our fault if nothing new turns up to grumble at; So let us raise the hiitm ic dirge about Midloth an still, And gloat o'er Britain's honour lost upon Majuba Hill ! A patriotic family, we are.

We ran up bills for England's sake, but Credit did it all, And bills (unless you pay them) are practically small ; But in the hands of reckless Rads, to ruin England glides ; Not only do they pay their own, but settle ours besides !

We're a financing family, we are.

We fought like Jingo where we could, but find it none too strong To swear that fights in Egypt are something very wrong; And though we voted to a man, Rebellion to coerce, The other side, that did so too, are clearly Brutes and worse. We're a consistent family, we are.

We coax and flatter the dear Whigs, but they will not be caught ; We make appeals to Hartiugton, apparently for naught; Be will not sever from the Rads, or shun the deadly lists Of Atheists (speaking mildly), and Thieves and Communists.

We are a soft-spoke family, we are.

For how can man believe in God, or His true praises sing, If he doesn't worship ground-rent as the really sacred thing? No property in brains or work, where man has lent a hand, Is due entirely to His grace, like property in land.

We are a righteous family, we are.

When Eloquence is bound to burn, in after-dinner flames, It's always easy work to call old Gladstone vulgar names ; From Birmingham vile Chamberlain a fearful sport affords, Forging base nails to drive into the coffin of the Lords !

We are a civil family, we are.

We toss poor Ireland up and down, the shuttlecock of State, And there, to make things pleasanter, stir up religious hate; We stand upon King William's stone, Faith's protestants to be, Although it must be owned we're not the Silent, as was he.

We are a scrup'lous family, we are.

We send our travellers right and left, with unremitting zeal ; Our Northcote, and our Richard Cross. for patronage appeal, And stump and spout so steadily, the farmers to appease, As they had caught, for Conscience' sake, the foot-and-mouth disease.

We're an unselfish family, we are. - They puff our wares and specimens, they hawk them up and down, But no new patent in the lot, for county or for town :

So purchasers look shy and 'skance, and turn their eyes away, Oh, for one hour of Beaconsfield, and something new to say !

We are a brilliant family, we are !

PETER CATES.