To arm the Amazons against the Greeks, OVIDIUS hints, proud manhood galls and piques. No doubt; yet NASO did it in his day, And we, in ours, who, sorely-pressed, would stay The rising tide of Revolution, check Disintegration, of the claws who'd peck At our political sleeves and platform hearts Must not be frightened. "Rummiest of starts," The ribald Cockney cries; to see at length, "The Tory seeking to recruit his strength Prom those he dubbed, in earlier, scornfuller mood The crowing hens, the shrieking sisterhood!" Shade of sardonic SMOLLETT, haunt no more St. Stephen's precincts; list not to the roar Of the mad Midland cheers, when FEILDING's plan Of levelling (moneyed) Woman up to Man Wins "Constitutional" support and votes From a "majority" of Tory throats! Mrs. LYNN LINTON, how this vote must vex, That caustic censor of her own sweet sex! Wild Women--_with_ the Suffrage! Fancy that, O fluent Lady, at tart nick-names pat! Girls of the Period? They were bad enough, But what a deal of skimble-skamble stuff Will Mrs. FAWCETT's Middle-aged Ones talk When these eight hundred thousand _hens_ o' the walk Cackle for Order, Purity, and Peace!!!
Partlets _may_ save our Capitol, as geese Once did the Roman; nigh a million--JUNOS, Roll back the tide of Revolution. Who knows? Not PRIAM-SALISBURY. Does _he_ look askance At the new Amazonian Queen's advance? Does he hide apprehension with a smile? The Amazons are used to Grecian guile; ACHILLES-GLADSTONE sorely they mistrust. Which side will give them more than fain it must? To-day the Trojans show the friendlier front PENTHESILEA, whom the Greeks would shunt, Proffers her aid to Tory Troy, to keep High Ilium against the foes who creep Nearer and nearer to its sacred walls. ACHILLES o'er the trenches loudly calls, In menace fierce, thrasonic in his boast, His Myrmidons, a mad and motley host, Mean boundless mischief, the Palladium's gone If they are not repulsed. It _must_ be done, Come what, come will. PRIAM has trimmed his sails To popular winds until the pilot fails To know the old and carefully charted course. His wisdom, and brave ARTHUR-HECTOR's force, May yet prove vain if no auxiliar hand Help yon Anarchic legions to withstand. The Amazonian host? Aha! Well hit! Scruple to take she-helping? Not a bit Too late for proud punctilio. No, this Queen Is not so lovely, of such royal mien, As hers who witched ACHILLES e'en in death. An elderly Amazon of shortish breath, With gingham huge and gig-lamps, though she hold That "Property" buckler broad and bossed with gold Is scarce a Siren--of the ancient style; More of Minerva's frown than Venus' smile! But then, eight hundred thousand!!! There's the rub. Recruited from the Platform and the Tub, With Middle-aged and Propertied Amazons, Ilium may master e'en the Myrmidons. Come, anti-revolutionaries, come! Strike Anarchy dead, and Socialism dumb! Accept new arms, ye maiden cohorts! Take The weapon that shall make ACHILLES shake, And reinforce, against the wiles of Greece, The powers of Property, Privilege, and Peace!