THE DEFEAT OF THE HOME RULE BILL.

Kumara Times, Issue 3052, 14 August 1886, Page 3

THE DEFEAT OF THE HOME RULE BILL.

"Punch" of the 19 th June last contained the following lines on the defeat of the Home Rule Bill in the House of Commons. Thuy refer to a cartoon by Mr Tenuiel, in the same number, which is itself a clever caricature of Meissonier's picture " 1814." Meissonier drew Napoleon and his staff gloomily riding along one of the miry country roads of Fiance during his lust desperate strun-gle against the Allies. IVimicl'd Napoleon is, of course, the Grand Old Man, who, worn,

weary, and aged, but resolute withal, rides a jaded white horse some paces in front of a staff in which Sir William Harcourt, Mr Morley, Lords Spencer and Rosebery, and Mr Mundella are conspicuous. Mr Punch has seldom been happier than in the picture and these verses:— Ride on, Great Chief ! A mournful ride ! The ebbing and the flowing tide Of battle now Sets—for awhile—against you. Doom Dulls in your eye its light; its gloom Shadows your brow. That firm set face, that forthright look Tell that defeat is hard to brook, And heavier thus, Because old comrades many, brave, Swell the foes' ranks whose standards wave Victorious. Where are the men who many a day Have fought around you in the fray, Defying fear ? Ask where the fire of youth now glows, Where are dead summers, where the snows Of yester year 1 Argyll is gone, his cocky crest, Like Chanticleer's, which ever prest Straight to the van, Flames with the foe he late assailed ; Gone Hartington, who never failed To play the man : Gone Chamberlain, gone Goschen, gone— Of shocks the sorest; —Glorious John, And these have turned The tide of fight, and dulled your fame, And lowered the flag where Victory's flame So oft hath burned. Yet some remain ; the stalwart, stout, Swashbuckler Harcourt; how the rout Must rouse his ire ! Aramis Granville, sleekly strong, Young Rosebery of the ready tongue And charge of fire. Chivalrous Russell, Childers meet, Mundella of the eagle-beak And flowing hair; High-hearted Spencer, Morley grim, With—strangest of strange foils to him— Bland Labouchere. And many another man of might, Yet not enough to win the fight, Or stay defeat. So, with fixed face, and forward glance, The Chief, best used to brave advance, Rides in retreat. Withdrawing, yet considerate still Of further fight, unshaken will, Unbated hope, O'er-ride reverse ; yet once again He'll rally that despondent train With fate to cope. It is not yet his Waterloo. That stern face seeks the shadows through For coming light, Though now outnumbered, brought to stand, He leads a broken, beaten band Once more to fight.