Page:To Bourkes Statue.djvu/7

 With Sisyphic attempts Fame's temple try No niche is there for eccentricity——— High roads Colossus once was yours the power To move each bullock team as coach and four. Why did you fail, when yours the ironed man To make the "high hills hop" as hop'd "Bashan?" Go grave your maps, in survey you succeed Where praise is worthy, let me grant the meed, Thousands of men and money shout for land But here as elsewhere work is at a stand.—

Let Customs Chief sedately take his place, Midst waning moon-calves shew one gibbous face, 'Tis true no Pylian's mantle did descend To guide his eloquence, his peers defend, But cast amid this heterogeneous race, A man midst Chimpanzees—quite out of place— He does his work sans peur et sans reproche And dont embezzle to display a coach.—

What umbrella major now appears And takes his seat quite overcome by fears? What pale timidity sits on his brow As though his heart anticipates a row Clever to plead for place, or lick a plate To cough in Council, or to clean a grate, From lowest grade this Magnate's riz so high He quite forgets his proud antiquity.— Tried every post he now the master rules And misdirects the foolery of fools—— Hoard up your money while 'tis easy earned No distant day, the tables must be turned.—

See Pinchgut member fumble at the door In case his comates aint gone in before A precious mull he made the other day To vote by accident the other way,—— How ludicrous the nod, the beck, and wink Come here, "no there," "'tis right fornent, I think;"