From toiling crowds by cunning and by stealth,--
_He_ is all right, _he_ has no maudlin twist,
_He_ does not shock the Individualist!
But rate yourselves to give the poor free reading?
The Pelican to warm her nestlings bleeding,
Was no such monument of feeble folly.
_Let folks alone_, and all will then be jolly.
Let the poor perish, let the ignorant sink,
The tempted tumble, and the drunkard drink!
Let--no, _don't_ let the low-born robber rob,
Because,--well, that would rather spoil the job.
If footpad-freedom brooked no interference,
Of Capital there might be a great clearance;
But, Wealth well-guarded, let all else alone.
'Tis thus our race hath to true manhood grown:
To make the general good the common care,
Breaks through the sacred law of _Laissez Faire_!

* * * * *

A REMONSTRANCE.

_TO LUKE'S LITTLE SUMMER._

[Illustration]

Ah, Summer! now thy wayward race is run,
With soft, appeasing smiles thou com'st, like one
Who keeps a pageant waiting all the day,
Till half the guests and all the joy is gone,