Viii

So, off from his head flies the bonnet, His hip loses hand planted on it, While t' other hand, frequent in gesture, Slinks modestly back beneath vesture, As--hop, skip and jump,--he 's along with Those weak ones he late proved so strong with! Pope, Emperor, lo, he 's beside them, Friendly now, who late could not abide them, King, Clown, Soldier, Priest, Noble, Burgess; And his voice, that out-roared Boanerges, How minikin-mildly it urges In accents how gentled and gingered Its word in defence of the injured! "Oh, call him not culprit, this Pontiff! Be hard on this Kaiser ye won't if Ye take into con-si-der-ation What dangers attend elevation! The Priest--who expects him to descant On duty with more zeal and less cant? He preaches but rubbish he 's reared in. The Soldier, grown deaf (by the mere din Of battle) to mercy, learned tippling And what not of vice while a stripling. The Lawyer--his lies are conventional. And as for the Poor Sort--why mention all Obstructions that leave barred and bolted Access to the brains of each dolt-head?"